Happy Enough
by SLynn
Summary: Just when things in his life seem to be falling into place, they start to fall apart for our favorite lab tech. Greg-centric Angst. Finally COMPLETE Revised 13 Feb 05
1. Short of Breath

**Happy Enough by SLynn**

**Notes:** Okay, this is weird. I've never never even considered writing a CSI fanfic. I love the show, but just never even thought about it. Until I started reading it myself and couldn't shake it. Maybe I've been preoccupied since I'm moving to Vegas in a month, I'm not sure. I have a co-worker who calls the songs that get stuck in your head over and over again earwigs, and that's what this idea was – an earwig. Not just the normal plot bunnies at work here. I literally almost couldn't sleep until I planned this out and I still don't know how long it's going to be. I hope it's good.

**Revision Notes:** I've completely re-read and hopefully fixed some of the more obvious errors in this story. Some wording changes were made but nothing affecting overall content was edited. The biggest addition is to the final chapter where a new paragraph was added, but again, it did not change the plot or ending in any shape. Thanks.

**Summary:** Greg's having a tough week.

**Disclaimer:** Any character you recognize, not mine.

**Chapter 1: Short of Breath**

Greg was enjoying the ride. It was a long way from the crime lab to the farmhouse where the crime had taken place and he was thankful for the reprieve.

Truth be told he was exhausted. It was his sixth night on in a row, his second double shift and he wasn't sure how much longer he could go without a break. Nick had been subtly hinting all night that he needed to speak up and tell Grissom that he needed some rest but there was no way Greg was going to. That sounded too much like admitting he couldn't do the job.

It was tough, he'd go out on cases and then it was straight back to the lab to find the results. He was positive everyone but maybe Nick was taking it for granted that he was in fact doing two jobs now. Maybe they just didn't realize it. Overworked and underpaid, a wining combination.

Not to mention his social life was practically dead. Okay, that wasn't true. He had a girlfriend for the moment, one he hadn't seen in two days because of his schedule. But Mandy and he were getting serious despite it. She even had a key to his place.

He smiled to himself as his head rested against the window.

"You okay?" Sara asked.

"Cat-nap," he answered. "Car rides do it to me every time."

'That and not actually sleeping', he added to himself.

"Well, time's up. We're here."

The SUV came to an abrupt stop. Greg and Sara got out of the car and cases in hand, found their way to Grissom and Nick.

"Good, you're here," Grissom said looking up at the two. "We've got two victims, husband and wife. We've already done a preliminary sweep of the house, but we need you two to check the barn. We haven't found the weapon yet but we think it was from the premises."

"Where's the barn?" Sara asked, professional as always.

"Over there," he said pointing to a building well behind the house that could only be described as a dilapidated. They quickly made their way.

"Cozy," Greg said with a smirk.

"I was thinking quaint," Sara said as they opened the doors. "And now I'm thinking filthy."

Greg coughed a few times and waved a hand in front of his face.

"Alright?" she asked with mild concern.

"Yeah, dust and I are not the best of friends."

"Wear a mask then," she said digging one out of her case for both of them.

For half a second Greg contemplated not putting it on, it didn't seem very manly, but another small series of coughs changed his mind.

"You start over there. Don't pick up any thing that might be evidence. Just observe, photograph and lift prints if necessary," Sara instructed. "I'll take this end.

Greg nodded, not sure what he was looking for, or how he'd find it in this mess. It obviously hadn't been used in years and it was probably a waste of time looking here. Still he managed to find his way to the tool rack and mentally noted that they at least were partially dust free. That and one was missing.

He snapped off a few quick photos and leaned in closer for a better look. Maybe the perp had grabbed something from here as the weapon. Even better, he thought as he spotted what looked like a small drop of blood, maybe he cut himself first.

Taking a few more pictures, he left a marker and slowly moved on. That's when he first noticed. Greg's chest and back felt tight. It was probably nothing, but he couldn't just shrug it off. As his chest felt more and more constricted, he began to slightly panic and pant.

He couldn't breath.

Greg quickly dropped his case and threw it open frantically looking for what he needed. He felt his pulse racing and he knew he had to calm down. He needed to take slow, deep breaths and just relax, but the realization that he'd left what he needed in his lab coat pocket didn't help.

He had to get out of here.

"Greg?" Sara called out. She'd heard him drop the box and it hadn't sound accidental. Stepping out of the stables she'd been searching and onto the main floor, she saw him hastily heading out the door.

Greg had heard her call his name but hadn't stopped. He had to get out of there. Quick. As soon as he got outside he ripped off the mask and threw it down, hands on knees and bent at the waist he began coughing and gasping.

Greg had been an asthmatic since he was a teenager. He was only mildly allergic to dust mites and cat dander but they had triggered attacks before. With Allegra he hardly even needed his inhaler but knew he should still carry it. And normally he did. Greg felt immensely stupid for leaving it at the lab tonight.

This however, had never happened before; not this quick and not this strong.

"Greg?" Sara said beside him now, surprise and concern in her eyes, "Are you okay?"

He couldn't answer. Not yet and was surprised to feel himself sway into her, nearly knocking the two of them down. Instead of falling she eased him to the ground as he continued to gasp and wheeze.

"Do you have anything for this?" she asked.

"Lab…" he said as he shook his head no, "…left…at….lab."

Sara hesitated for a second. She probably shouldn't leave him like this, but he needed help. Holding her flashlight up to get a better look at his face, she made up her mind at the blue-tint his lips had begun to take.

"Stay here," she said firmly as she took off towards the house as fast as possible.

He'd laugh if he could at that last statement, because really, where was he going. Instead he pulled off his jacket and tried to slow his breathing like he'd been taught.

A few minutes brought Nick out of the house and leaning down to him.

"Brass has got paramedics coming," he said scanning Greg's face.

"No… not…necc…"

"You're going to the hospital man," Nick cut in. "You look terrible."

Greg let out a snort of a laugh which was then followed by a fresh bout of coughs.

"Sorry," Nick said frowning at his friend.

Greg waved him off and tried taking slow deep breaths again.

"Do you want to lay back or something? Should you be inside?"

"No… sitting… better," Greg managed between intakes of air. "Cold….helps."

"Stop asking him questions that he can't answer with a nod," came a voice from a short distance away. It was Grissom. "He needs to save his breath."

Nick looked a bit chagrinned, he hadn't thought of that. Obviously Greg needed to focus on breathing.

"Feeling better?" he asked, kneeling next to Nick to get a better look at Greg.

Greg nodded yes, even though he wasn't sure how true that was. Nick and Sara asking him that was okay. He knew they were concerned. Grissom asking felt a little bit more like an interrogation.

"Shouldn't be long just hang in there," he said as he stood up and left.

At a loss of what to do now, Nick began to relate the current status of the case to him. Greg appreciated it more then he could say, literally. His chest still felt like it was on fire, it was that tight. Listening to the case history helped him at least not think about it so much.

Turns out Grissom was right, Nick hadn't even finished telling him everything when they saw the paramedics headed for them. To Greg's great surprise they had a gurney.

He was already shaking his head no before they could even ask. He wasn't getting on it. No way.

"I…can…walk," was what he said to the nearest one before they even tried to get him to it.

The guy gave a bit of a smirk to his co-worker, like they'd had a bet on it, but Greg was serious. So serious he nearly fell over trying to stand up and prove it.

"Whoa," Nick said jumping to his feet and helping steady him. "If you want to walk at least let us help you."

"Listen," the first paramedic said as if addressing a child, "you really should just let us push you back."

Greg ignored them and started slowly heading back towards the front of the house, Nick helping him along. Yes, he knew that he wasn't endearing himself any to the two guys who were there to save his life, but he didn't care. He wasn't riding on the gurney.

The three minute walk took nearly fifteen. The two paramedics trailed them the whole way, alternating between exasperated sighs and 'tsks'. Nick said nothing, just let Greg lean on him when he needed to and stopped when Greg did. Greg had never been more grateful to anyone then he felt at that moment.

The last twenty feet were the worst. He realized at this point Nick was supporting almost his entire weight. Despite the cold he was actually sweating as he sat down inside the ambulance.

Sara was livid.

"You let him walk?" she asked accosting Nick the moment he'd stepped away from Greg. "What were you thinking? Look at him."

Greg wanted to say something to this, but he was in the process of being hooked up to the oxygen tank as the paramedic prepared the metered-dosed inhaler for him.

"Sara," Nick said tactfully as he could, trying to pull her out of Greg's earshot but not succeeding. "He's a grown man alright. He didn't want to be pushed back here like that. It was his decision."

Sara gave him a look that clearly spoke her opinion, but dropped the matter.

"Okay, were ready to go," the first paramedic said. "Anyone else coming?"

"I'll follow in the SUV," Nick said. "You heading to UMC?"

The second paramedic nodded.

"Greg," Nick said catching his attention, "I'll see you there."

Greg nodded, again grateful to have him as a friend. The back doors shut and they were on their way.


	2. Weary

**Happy Enough by SLynn**

**Disclaimer:** Any character you recognize, not mine.

**Chapter 2: Weary**

Greg wasn't sure what he was being held up for. It was getting late, or early depending on how you looked at it. Just past two in the morning now. By the time they'd reached the University Medical Center his breathing had been normalized. They'd given him a refill for his inhaler and taken some blood and otherwise left him there.

"Sorry about that," Dr. Abbott, the one who'd treated him when they'd arrived, said as he opened the curtain to the examination area. "Didn't mean to keep you waiting."

"No, it's fine." Greg said despite the fact he'd just been getting ready to bolt.

"I wanted to talk to you about what happened."

"Okay," Greg said with skepticism.

"I've reviewed your file, your boss faxed it over from your office," the doctor continued in a tone that Greg had heard before but didn't respond too.

"How's work going for you?" he asked.

"Fine. Good, actually. Real good. I'm getting promoted." Greg mentally berated himself. He sounded like a kid coming home to dad with a perfect score on a spelling test.

"And the hours?" he continued to prod.

"Long," Greg said truthfully.

Dr. Abbott nodded.

"I want you to take a few days off. Your blood tests came back slightly anemic. Could be you're just tired, but considering your history we can't be too careful. I also want you back here on Wednesday for additional tests. Just to rule anything else out."

Greg winched inwardly at the mention of his 'history'. After all this time he still hated it when doctors said it like that, and they all did.

"It was just an asthma attack," Greg tried to argue. "Really, it's not necessary. I feel fine."

Dr. Abbott shook his head.

"Have you ever had an asthma attack this bad?"

"No but…"

"Stress can do that, but we have to be sure."

Greg conceded. A few tests wouldn't hurt and he really did like the idea of a couple of days of sleep and an actual night out with Mandy seemed nice for a change.

After getting the specifics on the tests, the when's and where's, he headed back to the lobby. Nick was waiting for him as promised.

"Hey, you look better," he said as way of a greeting.

"Thanks," Greg mumbled as they headed outside to the SUV.

"How you feeling?" Nick asked.

"Stupid. Really stupid. If I hadn't left that damn inhaler in my lab coat…"

"Don't beat yourself up over it. It's no big deal. I didn't even know you were asthmatic."

"I'm sure Grissom didn't either. He's probably already thinking of replacements for me. I'm going to die in that lab."

"No he isn't. He's not like that. He knows you'll get this under control. Everyone makes mistakes."

"Yeah, but that's all I make," Greg said with a sigh, letting himself in on the passengers side.

The ride to Greg's apartment was quiet. Nick was worried. He'd never seen Greg act like this before, so despondent. He knew that above everything Greg must be embarrassed. The man was trying so hard to do everything right but lately hadn't been catching many breaks. He'd been wanting to talk with Grissom about cutting back Greg's lab time but wasn't sure if that would be crossing the line. He knew if Greg found out he was going behind his back to their boss on his behalf he'd be upset. On the other hand, Greg was never going to say anything himself and was running himself ragged between field work, studying collection techniques, and still doing about seventy-five percent of the lab work. To top that off, Greg's new girlfriend was fairly demanding of his time, not that Nick would ever say anything about that either and he knew Greg was working on his master's degree. It was a lot to handle and it was obviously taking its toll on his friend.

"We're here," Nick said noticing Greg had fallen asleep.

Greg rubbed his eyes and looked around, uncertain what Nick was talking about for half a moment.

"Thanks man," he finally said as he stifled a yawn.

"No problem. I'll tell Grissom you're taking tomorrow off."

"Might as well tell him I'm taking off Wednesday too then. Doctor's orders."

"Got it," he answered as Greg shut the door to the SUV. "Hey, you okay? Do you need company or anything?"

"Nah, you probably should get back," he said as the yawn finally escaped him. "Besides, lights on. Mandy's here. I'm fine."

"Okay. See you Thursday."

Greg nodded and turned to walk up the flight of steps to his apartment. He wasn't surprised that Mandy was there. She stayed most nights even when he worked. He liked it, found it comforting knowing someone was going to be there when he got back, but wasn't sure where it was headed. He liked Mandy. Liked talking with her, just spending time with her, but honestly, giving her a key to his place was her idea, not his. Threat might be a better word as it hadn't really been an idea.

Out of all his friends, only Nick had met her. He'd been nice enough with the compliments, but subtle wasn't Nick Stokes middle name. He knew Nick didn't like her much, but Greg just felt very alone lately and Mandy had needed him. Everyone wants to feel needed.

Greg stepped inside his apartment and took off his jacket. He quickly checked his answering machine and then put down his keys and cell phone. Making his way to his bedroom he saw the light on under the door. Just before he opened it a strange noise made him stop. A strange yet familiar noise coming from just beyond the other side.

Greg shut his eyes in preparation, not even mad really. At least not yet. Just weary and silently asking the powers to be that this not be what he thinks it is.

But it was.

Greg opened the door and saw Mandy and some guy that wasn't him doing things that didn't look humanly possible. Things that would make a sailor on shore leave blush.

"Sorry if I'm interrupting," Greg said starting off calmly but his voice rising in anger as he spoke, "but could you tell me what in the hell is going on?"

"Oh my God," Mandy said quickly covering herself up and jumping out of bed. "Greg, what are you doing here so early?"

"I live here," he said as he watched the other guy in his bed actually smirk at him.

"But your not usually home…"

He must have given her quite a look because she stopped mid-sentence as he turned to her.

"Don't," he said firmly as she tried to touch him. "Get dressed and get out. Now."

"Greg please, let me explain."

"Explain what? That wasn't CPR you were performing. Get dressed and get out. Now!"

The guy was already pulling on his pants as Greg left the room, choosing to sit on the coach instead of stay where he'd been.

A few minutes later Greg watched him leave, fighting every impulse in his body that was screaming at him to get up and punch the asshole.

"Greg," Mandy said, sitting directly in front of him on the coffee table. "Please try and understand. You're never here."

"I have a job Mandy. We've been through this."

"I just get so lonely," she said, looking up at him with big brown eyes and taking his hands in hers, "You know that I…"

"No," Greg said standing up and shaking her off of him, "No. Don't say that. You don't love me. You couldn't do that and love me."

"What am I suppose to do Greg?" she asked, her voice growing as bitter as his, "Wait for you every night? Never go out? Never have any fun? You are never here. Even when you are, you're not. You're exhausted all the time. What was I suppose to do?"

"How about not fuck some random guy the first chance you get? How about talk to me about it?"

"I tried."

"When? No, you know what, it doesn't matter. It doesn't. Just leave."

"So is that it? Like that, you can just shut me out?"

"Yes," he said noting his hands had begun to shake. "I can. I don't want to even look at you anymore, okay?"

Mandy didn't say anything else, just grabbed her purse and jacket that she'd left on the chair earlier in the evening.

"What about the rest of my stuff?" she asked softly leaning into the doorframe hoping he'd give her another chance.

"Come by on Wednesday," he said gruffly. "I'll pack it up."

She nodded curtly.

"Wait," he said suddenly, causing her to stop.

Greg walked over to her and took her hands. Mandy smiled up at him, knowing he'd cave eventually, but was surprised when she realized that he'd dropped her hands again rather quickly. She watched confused, nearly frozen, as he'd taken her keys from her, removed one and then put them back into her hand.

"This one's mine," he said holding up the apartment key before her.

She stormed off without another word leaving Greg feeling, if possible, worse then he had all night.


	3. Drawing Conclusions

**Happy Enough by SLynn**

**Disclaimer:** Any character you recognize, not mine.

**Chapter 3: Drawing Conclusions**

"Mr. Sanders this is Nicole from the UMC Cancer Treatment Facility. I'm just calling to confirm your appointment for tomorrow morning at 8 am. As a reminder, you should not eat or drink anything twelve hours prior to your appointment. If you have any questions or need to reschedule, please contact me at 555-1098."

Greg listened to the message once more, jotting down the numbers just in case. He seriously considered picking up the phone and canceling. He didn't want to go. More importantly, he didn't want to know what the tests would find. Greg didn't think he could do it all again.

Checking the clock he was surprised to see it was past three in the afternoon. For a moment he panicked thinking he should be at the lab before he remembered his doctor ordered mini-vacation.

Greg took a quick shower and then stripped his bed linen. He wasn't sure what he'd do with it, maybe burn it, but finally settled on throwing the lot of it out. He'd spent the night on the couch unable to even bring himself back into the room until now.

Deciding he should eat now, since in a few hours he wouldn't be allowed, he quickly made himself dinner. Just as he sat down his cell phone went off.

Checking the screen he groaned.

"What Hodges?" he asked curtly. He wasn't in the mood for this.

"I haven't been in the lab since eight o'clock last night, how should I know?"

Greg rubbed his head in frustration. He knew Hodges was screwing with him, but couldn't help but take the bait and get angry.

"Well if there isn't any left go down to supply and get some more."

He was up and pacing now. He wasn't supposed to even be working in the lab anymore.

"No. No, I'm not coming in tonight," he said into his phone, despite the sinking feeling in his stomach telling him that he was.

"I didn't faint," he found himself practically yelling into the phone.

"Well, it's not my problem anymore. Figure it out yourself."

The bad thing about cell phones was that you couldn't really hang up on people with the same kind of conviction. Nothing was better then slamming a phone down when you were really, really angry. Greg settled on throwing his phone and then immediately regretting it as he saw it break into pieces against the wall.

'Well, at least I have something to do tonight,' he thought as he sat down to finish his dinner. He could go pick up a new one before heading to the lab.

Yeah, he was weak. He needed to get out of here and there was something else he wanted to do that he could only do at the lab.

Before leaving he put all of Mandy's things into a box which he then placed by the front door. He decided on calling her after he got his new phone and before he got to work. Greg was hoping that by the time he did all of these things most of the team would be out on assignment. Of course, he'd been wrong.

"What are you doing here?" Catherine asked as soon as she saw him. He'd expected it. If Hodges' knew about last night so did everyone else.

"I left some books in my locker. Thought I'd just stop in and get them. You know, easier to read that way."

"You should have called; one of us could have swung by with them."

"Nah," Greg said trying what he hoped was an unaffected smile, "You're all too busy. It's no big deal."

"Okay," she said with a scrutinizing look, "but get your books and go. You need to rest."

"Sure thing," he said with a smile as he hurried past her, turning left at the hallway towards his old lab instead of right towards the locker room.

It was easy to see that no one was there, glass walls and all. The new girl or Hodges or whoever was covering analysis tonight either just stepped out or hadn't made it in yet. Greg was glad. He knew he had to act fast, but he hadn't planned on what he'd do if the lab hadn't been empty. Probably would have just had to keep walking past it for half the night waiting for this chance.

Donning his typical coat, he quickly gathered the supplies he'd need. Out of habit he'd put on the gloves and then quickly realized that given what he was doing he wouldn't need them so he took them off again. Checking behind him, making sure no one was watching he poked his index finger for the drop of blood needed, put it onto the slide, placed the slide cover on and slid it under the microscope.

"Aren't you supposed to be off tonight?"

The voice made him jump almost off his seat.

Grissom, of course. The man was like a cat.

"Hey," was the only thing that came out of his mouth.

"What are you doing?"

"Checking over some samples from the other night. You know, stuff I didn't get too."

"You're not wearing gloves."

Greg looked quickly down and saw that he wasn't. He'd never put them back on.

"Oh, I must have…"

"You're also bleeding."

Greg didn't know what to say.

"Let me see what you've got," Grissom said suddenly walking over the microscope.

Greg got out of his seat, not sure if he should fess up now or just see where this was going.

"Anemic. High white-blood cell count."

"Yeah, well…"

Grissom stepped back and waited for Greg to continue.

"I, um…"

Grissom cut him off with a sharp nod.

"I'll be in my office if you need me. Don't stay too long."

Greg watched him go with a mixture of awe and terror. He wondered for the first time if Grissom knew. If he'd read his medical files like Dr. Abbott had. Shaking it off, he turned back to the microscope and confirmed what Grissom had just told him. Cleaning up after himself, carefully putting everything away, he made his way out of the lab and into the locker room.

It was sinking in now.

Greg sat down in front of his locker and put his head in his hands. He knew what it probably meant, what it certainly must mean. His white-blood cell count was high. He could ask Doc Robbins for a more detailed screening, but he'd be getting that tomorrow. And he didn't feel like explaining it.

"Hey Greggo," he heard Nick say from behind.

His voice stirred him into action. Greg stood and opened the locker before him.

"What's up?" Greg answered in the most casual voice he could manage.

"Not much, slow night."

"Yeah, I just needed these to study," Greg answered, holding up his books as emphasis, but not turning round. He didn't think he could face anyone at the moment.

"You alright?" Nick asked after a moment, completely sincere.

"Fine."

"Because honestly, you don't…"

"Yeah, I know. I don't look good. I look tired. I look…"

He was going to finish with sick, but couldn't do it.

"I should be home," Greg said after a moments pause.

"Greg," Nick said standing up as Greg had started to leave.

It stopped him in his tracks.

"You know we're all here if you need us. I am too."

Greg nodded silently as his shoulders shrunk then continued out the door. Nick followed him only to the break room, watching as he side stepped past Sara without a word.

"What's wrong with him?" she asked Nick, pointing back towards Greg as he rounded the last corner.

"I'm not sure, but he's definitely not himself."

Greg made it out to his car and sat behind the wheel unaware the tears had begun to slip down his face. One thought echoed over and over in his head.

'I can't go through this again.'


	4. Too Soon

**Happy Enough by SLynn**

**Disclaimer:** Any character you recognize, not mine.

**Chapter 4: Too Soon**

"What happened to you?"

These were the first words out of Warrick's mouth as Greg made it back to work nearly two days later on Thursday night. No one had seen or heard from him since he'd come in on Tuesday.

He knew the baseball hat wasn't going to cover his eye, but he'd hoped it would at least shade it. Of course, once more, he'd been wrong. He took it off and gave up trying. What had he really expected? These people were all trained to notice the details.

"It's nothing," Greg said trying to brush it off, hoping the meeting would just start soon before everyone else could gather round and start gawking.

"Hey Greg," Sara said coming in. Her voice changed from jovial to serious in a second, "What happened?"

"It's nothing," he repeated and then stressed. "Really."

Grissom, Nick and Catherine all showed up at once, as Greg tried to shrink himself into the corner.

"Okay, let's talk assignments," Grissom began before the other two could ask the only question on everyone's mind.

Greg knew what he looked like. He'd seen himself in the mirror, half-swollen black eye and all. He'd spent most of the day wondering how he was going to get around explaining it to everyone. Avoiding it was definitely not going to work. This was turning into the worse week of his life. Yesterday he'd spent nearly eight hours being prodded and poked at with needles and giving way to many specimens of his various body fluids. And that was the highlight. Today just had to be better, statistically it couldn't be worse.

"Greg?"

Grissom's voice brought him back to reality. That and everyone looking at him. He hadn't realized the meeting had been taking place around him or that he'd gone off into space. Obviously he'd been asked something. Probably twice. He just had no idea what it was.

"I… um… yes."

"Is that a question or an answer?"

Greg hated when he did that.

"An answer?"

"You don't know?"

"No."

"No you don't know or no that wasn't an answer?"

Greg took in a breath, completely confused. Worse still was the looks on everyone else's faces staring back at him as he floundered.

"I asked you to explain what prompted you to photograph the tool rack in the barn on Monday night."

"Oh," Greg said somewhat flushed, "I just noticed that it was kind of clean, well cleaner then everything else. Like it had been used recently."

"What else?" Grissom asked.

'Before or after I fainted?' Greg wanted to say, but didn't.

"Blood. There was a small amount of blood that wasn't dried underneath."

"Good," Grissom said and then continued on the same line. Greg struggled to pay attention for the next half hour. Grissom rehashed the current cases and handed out the assignments.

"Okay everyone, let's get to work," he said as they all stood to leave. Nick and Catherine both were making there way towards Greg when once more Grissom spoke. "Oh, and Greg? Come see me in my office."

Happy to have an escape, even if he wasn't happy were he was going too, Greg left arriving not long after Grissom himself.

"You wanted to see me?" he asked from the door.

"Come in and shut the door behind you."

No good conversation had ever started with those words. The odds were definitely against him but Greg did what he was told.

"I got a call from Brass earlier. He said that you were involved in an altercation last night."

Greg nodded and looked down. Yep, statistics or not, today was going to be worse then yesterday.

"I can explain that."

"I hope so," Grissom said looking up at him very seriously.

"My girlfriend and I broke up this week. She wasn't too happy with me and…"

"Your girlfriend did this to you?"

"No," Greg not sure which part of that statement offended him most. Grissom implying that he'd hit a woman or Grissom implying that a woman could knock him out. "Her new boyfriend did."

"Greg, I think you're doing a great job here. I really do. But, I think I need to remind you that as a member of this team you have to be more careful in all aspects of your life. You can't afford to put yourself in these types of situations. One arrest, even if the charges are dropped and you will be fired."

"It wasn't that serious."

"The cops were called."

"That was my landlady. She thought… well I don't know what she thought. I didn't even file a report, how did Brass know?"

"Word gets around."

Greg nodded.

"Am I on probation or something?" he asked, honestly concerned for his job.

"No, I'm just looking out for you."

Again, Greg nodded.

"Is there anything you want to talk to me about?" Grissom asked after another minute's scrutiny.

"Did you read my medical file?" Greg found himself asking without meaning too.

"Why would I do that?"

"I just thought, after the attack you might wonder. And my doctor said you faxed it over, so I don't know, I thought you might have."

"That's illegal Greg. I had it faxed over because I thought it might help."

Greg was starting to feel like one of those wobbly headed dolls with all the nodding he was doing.

"Anything else?" Grissom asked.

"No," Greg said standing and making his way out the door without another word. He only made it half way to the locker room before Nick found him.

"Don't ask me if I'm okay," Greg cut him off.

"I wasn't going to," Nick said non-defensively. Greg didn't believe him. "Sara's looking for you though. You and her are suppose to be going through the case photos from the crime scene on Monday."

"Yeah, sure. I'm on my way." He said with a less then enthusiastic smile.

Nick returned a more honest one and left. Greg trudged on, finding Sara in the south conference room, photos already laid out before her.

"What are we looking at?" he asked sitting down next to her.

"Well, I thought we'd go over the murder scene first. See if we noticed anything odd and then move on to the rest of the house before we start outside."

"Still nothing then?"

"Nope, the blood you found has so far been the only that was not either of the victims. Couple of hairs, but that'll take another day to get back the results. The lab is swamped."

"I could go run them."

Sara seriously considered it. She knew Greg was training for field work. Knew that he should be here, going through the motions with her and not retreating back to where he was more comfortable, but she also knew that he was the best technician they had.

"No," she finally decided. "Let someone else take that. I want you to look at this picture and tell me what's wrong with it."

Greg took the picture. As he did he realized he hadn't yet even seen the victims, having only gotten no further then the barn that night. Looking now, he thought he understood why maybe Grissom had kept him out initially. It was a massacre.

The picture was of the bedroom. Both of the victims lay side by side and didn't appear to have struggled. There was blood splatter on the head board and all of the surrounding walls. Only Doc Robbins would know whether or not they died instantly or bled out, either way it didn't look like a nice way to go. But then again, was there a nice way to go?

Greg continued to stare at the picture, Sara looking up at him now and then. Maybe this was better; at least you didn't know it was coming. There was no way that these two people went to bed that night thinking that this was it. There was no tomorrow. They didn't have to spend days wondering what their fate was. Even if they say it, no one really wants to know how they'll die. How could you live with the knowledge?

At least they got to die in their own bed. Beside someone they loved. Not in some sterile hospital like…

Abruptly Greg stood up.

"Find it?" Sara asked, his sudden movement barely registering. She'd long grown use to his odd behavior to be unsettled by something as simple as him standing.

"No," he said shortly, putting the picture face down on the table. "I've got to go."

"Why?" she asked only to see him retreating from the room. "Greg? What is it?"

He got out of there as fast as he could, hoping he'd get out of sight before she followed. 'What's wrong with me?' he mentally berated. Greg knew he was supposed to be learning and trying to figure out who killed these people but all he could do was worry about himself.

It was selfish but he couldn't help it. All he'd done for the past few days was worry. Knowing that worrying was pointless did not ease his mind any and hadn't stopped him even once. Worrying wouldn't change the facts one way or another, but it could prepare him.

Greg found himself on the roof not really sure how he'd gotten there.

He tried clearing his mind, not thinking about it for a few minutes but it didn't help. He knew he didn't have to face all of this alone, in the very least he could call his parents, but he hadn't wanted to scare them. They'd been through enough of this the first time around. He wouldn't find out for certain until Monday if the cancer was back, if he'd relapsed. If he had, then he'd call.

But his friends, his friends were here now and they knew something was up, he just couldn't tell them what. Greg couldn't tell them for the same reason he didn't tell anyone who didn't already know. That look. That look people gave you when you said cancer. It was this mixture of pity and fear, like it was contagious. It was a look that made him feel like he'd already died, like they were mourning you too soon.

And he didn't want to see it. Not again.


	5. Irrational

**Happy Enough by SLynn**

**Disclaimer:** Any character you recognize, not mine.

**Notes:** Thanks for the great reviews Lamborga, Em, fortytwo03, TVrocks and Sillie! I'm glad I'm not completely off base with this story, I think that's what's concerned me most.

**Chapter 5: Irrational**

"You're going to catch pneumonia."

"Least of my worries," Greg said just above a whisper without turning to greet Catherine as she came and sat down beside him.

"Greg, I don't know what's happening in your life. I'm not going to try and understand, but I wish you'd talk to someone. Whatever it is, whatever is happening, we'll all be here for you."

"Are you guys having like secret meetings to discuss me now?" he fired back, sounding far less angry then he actually was. Lately, but especially since the 'history' talk with Dr. Abbott on Monday, he found his moods swung wildly and without control.

"It's not like that, we're concerned."

"So yes, you are."

"Greg listen…"

"No Cath, you listen." Greg interrupted jumping to his feet, "I've had a bad week. And I know everyone's worried because I nearly stopped breathing on Monday, but it hasn't happened again and it isn't going to. It's fine. I'm fine. Please drop it."

"It's not just that. This started well before Monday."

He looked a bit taken back but wasn't convinced.

"You haven't been yourself in weeks Greg. You're working too hard. You've got too much on your plate right now. No one expects you to learn this all overnight, it takes years to get good at it. No one expects you to be perfect or to do everything in the lab and everything in the field. You're setting very unrealistic goals for yourself and no one is going to blame you if you say you need a break."

"That's not true."

"Gil does not expect this of you."

"No, he expects me to take my work seriously. And I do. And I have been since I've been given this chance. I don't want to mess it up."

Greg sat down again, suddenly feeling very tired.

"You're not going too."

Greg rested his head to his knees feeling his breath becoming labored.

"Ah man," he said more to himself.

"What is it?"

"This is like… a plague or something… I'm like… a one-man… plague."

"Where's your inhaler?"

"In my locker… jacket pocket," he said.

"Combo?"

"I don't… lock it," he said the wheeze in his lungs becoming more pronounced.

She nodded and turned to go.

"Cath…Cath," he called out twice before she'd heard him and turned round again. "Don't… tell… anyone… please."

She nodded again and left.

Greg did a better job of controlling his breathing this time round. It's all he'd allow himself to think about. Just breathing. Deep breath in, slow breath out. Deep breath in, slow breath out. Of course it also helped that this time he wasn't in the middle of a crime scene worried about what his boss would say or how much evidence he might have sat in. Catherine was back in under five minutes.

"Here," she said as she handed it over.

Greg took two pulls off of it and then continued breathing as he'd been taught. Catherine hadn't left.

"I'm better," he said after a few more minutes. "It's easier now. Thanks."

Catherine thought otherwise. He did sound better, but he mostly definitely was not back to normal.

"I can wait."

"No really, go back. If we're both gone for too long… people will talk."

Catherine laughed.

"Where've you two been?" Nick's voice sounded out from behind them both.

"Told you," Greg said flatly.

"Seriously man, Sara is pissed. She thinks you've skipped work to go clubbing or something."

"Yeah well… I had to take a break."

Nick looked at his friend, really looked at him and it dawned on him.

"Again? Man, did they switch your meds or what?"

"Don't know," Greg replied.

"I don't think these are allergy related," Catherine put in.

"What, you think he's attention seeking? Because really, with that hair…"

"This is serious Nick. I think they're stress induced."

"Greg's fine, you're overreacting."

"He's not fine. Look at him."

"If you're both going to just talk about me like I'm not here, I might as well go," Greg spat out causing a small fit of coughs to erupt from him. Despite the coughs, he made his way back into the building and towards the lab.

"There you are," Sara called out upon seeing him, obviously still very much as pissed as Nick had warned.

"Not now," was all he said and kept walking.

"Greg," she said ignoring his request completely, "I thought you wanted to learn this, that you wanted to get out of the lab. It's not all field work and interrogation. This is part of it too. Running off to do errands or whatever it is you were doing in the middle of the shift isn't exactly the way to prove yourself around here."

"I wasn't trying to get out of doing my job, okay. I just needed some air."

"That's not an excuse. Your job is…"

"I know what my job is," he said rounding on her, Greg's voice louder then he intended. Sara actually took a step back.

"What's going on?" Grissom called out as he stepped round the corner. He'd heard their voices all the way from his office. It was disturbing. He'd seen just about everyone in the building come unglued at one point or another. Sara and Catherine. Warrick and Nick. Sara and Nick. But he'd never heard Greg raise his voice, unless he'd been singing along with what he termed 'music'.

"We were just discussing the case," Sara tried to cover.

She hadn't meant to be so confrontational and she knew she might have just pushed to hard. Greg wasn't himself lately and more then anything he probably just needed a friend. She wasn't very good at that sort of thing but it wasn't too late to try.

Grissom didn't look convinced but before he could speak the sound of a cell phone cut him off.

Greg looked a bit surprised to find it was his, checked the ID screen and excused himself as best he could. Sara and Grissom both looked a bit taken back that he just walked away from them, but they didn't stop him and they didn't follow.

"Greg Sanders," he said into the phone as he stepped as far down the hallway as he dared. He wasn't trying to avoid the altercation, but this was important. He just wanted to be out of listening range.

Sara and Grissom both watched as Greg nervously bounced from one foot to the next only twenty feet away, head down and only occasionally looking up at either of them. Blame the bad connection inside the building but Greg, despite lowering his voice, was still speaking loud enough for both of them to catch what he was saying.

"No, it's no problem. I work nights."

Sara turned away. She felt like she was eavesdropping. Grissom did not. He was too worried not to listen.

"Okay, so what does that mean?"

Another long pause in which Greg continued to do a few turns before leaning back into the wall.

"What time?" he asked into the phone, momentarily looking up and catching Grissom's eye. "No, that's fine."

Greg turned his back completely from the both of them now and in a much lower voice that Grissom just barely caught asked "When will the results be back?"

Sara turned back round as she heard Greg coming back towards them both. His face was set in an unreadable expression that didn't look natural on him.

"I'm sorry about that," he said to them both, "And I'm sorry I yelled."

"No, it's nothing. Its fine," Sara answered in return. She'd forgotten what they'd been yelling about in the first place.

"Do you think I could take the rest of the night off?" Greg asked Grissom, not really looking so much at him but at Grissom's feet.

"Sure," he answered with a slight nod.

"Thanks," was the only reply he got as he turned and headed to pick up his things. Greg hated asking favors, hated that he knew Grissom had heard most of what he'd said and he hated the fact that both of them were now scrutinizing him like he was a piece of evidence. Grissom would be trying to put two and two together now, if he hadn't already been trying before.

But work didn't seem that important right now.


	6. Not Yet

**Happy Enough by SLynn**

**Disclaimer:** Any character you recognize, not mine.

**Chapter 6: Not Yet**

Greg had little choice in the matter. He had needed a ride. The hospital wasn't going to let him leave without an escort so he'd had to call; it was either that or stay for the night which really wasn't an option. If the fact that he'd asked to be picked up from the UMC Cancer Treatment Facility surprised him, Nick didn't let it show.

The nurse who checked Greg out of the facility was careful to inform him of the side effects and also to instruct that he shouldn't be left alone for the next twelve to eighteen hours.

The drive back was awkward and silent. Neither one spoke. Greg couldn't even look at him and he was pretty sure what Nick was thinking.

"You missed the turn," Greg pointed out as Nick continued down the interstate.

"I'm not taking you to your apartment."

"I'll be fine. It's really not that serious."

For a split second Nick looked at him like he couldn't believe what he'd heard. Greg could hardly believe it himself. The thought of this had been tearing him up inside all week and now that it was happening it didn't seem real.

"I'm taking you to Catherine's place. She's off tonight. I'll stop by after shift and drive you home."

"Shouldn't I get a say in this?"

"You can say anything you like but I'm still taking you to Catherine's."

"Nick please, I just want to be in my own place tonight. I don't want to be answering a thousand questions about what's wrong or what's happened, I just want to be alone."

For a few minutes Nick didn't speak, but finally he relented and turned his Jeep back round towards Greg's place.

"Thanks."

"Sooner or later you're going to have to get this out. We're not trying to bother you or pry Greg. We're all worried."

"I know."

Nick sensed he'd pushed far enough, for now.

They stopped at his place and Nick, despite Greg's protests, helped him up to his apartment. The first thing they both noticed was a letter taped to the door. Greg pulled it down with one hand and unlocked the door with the other. Tossing his keys on the table, he tore into the letter reading a few lines before mumbling an obscenity.

Nick just looked at him curiously.

"I'm being evicted. Thirty days," Greg said as he threw the letter down on the table as well.

"Why'd they do that?"

"Because of the other night. Okay, probably not just because of the other night, I've had one or two louder then allowed parties, but not for months. I can't believe this."

"What happened the other night?" Nick asked, "Is this the eye story?"

"Aw man," Greg said as he sat down on the couch, wincing a bit as he did so. "Mandy. I didn't tell you, did I? We broke up."

"So what, did she hit you?"

"No, she did not. Some guy she's screwing did."

Nick shook his head and sat down as well. Greg sounded like himself for the first time all week. Despite the subject matter, his voice wasn't bitter, he almost sounded amused.

"Okay, you just broke up and she's already got another guy?"

"The other guy is why we broke up."

Nick couldn't help but laugh.

"Sure, laugh at my pain."

"Sorry, really I am."

"Don't be. I'm not."

"I told you she was trouble."

"No you didn't. You said she had a nice laugh."

"That was code."

"I'll keep that in mind next time."

"Anyway," Nick said standing to go. "I'm going to be late if I don't leave now."

Greg stood as well, sorry to see him go. It had been nice laughing, even if it was at his own expense. Nice not to think about all the things that had been in his head.

"I'll tell Grissom not to expect you tonight."

"Yeah, thanks for that, and for giving me a ride today."

"Anytime. Just call me if you need anything."

Greg nodded and shut the door behind Nick as he left suddenly feeling very much alone.

* * *

The next night Greg felt well enough for work. They had done a bone marrow tap and lumbar puncture the previous day at the treatment facility, but he wasn't on medication yet. Chemotherapy would only be started after the results of those two tests. He'd know for sure on Monday. He knew that the next two nights were going to be torture.

The worse part was going to be telling everyone. Not that he had planned on it yet, but he at least owed answers to Nick and Grissom. He half hoped Nick had guessed enough and told everyone for him, but no such luck. Walking into the break room he knew he hadn't just by the looks he received. Sure, they looked concerned, but they weren't mourning him. Not yet.

Grissom came in and gave his usual pre-shift speech. He said nothing about Greg's absence yesterday and didn't single him out like the last time. Greg felt as if he was almost ignoring him until the assignments were read and he learned that they'd be riding together to a crime scene. He had wanted to tell Nick first, maybe even ask him what he'd said to Grissom beforehand, but now it looked like he wouldn't get the chance. He was determined to do this now that he had the chance.

The car ride back from the hospital with Nick yesterday had been a joy ride comparatively. Greg had a very easy relationship with everyone else on the team. He could talk to them about anything, laugh and joke, but not Grissom. Maybe it was because he was the boss or because he seemed so serious all the time. Greg wasn't sure. All he knew was that around him he didn't feel like being himself was good enough.

"How's your master's degree coming?"

"Fine," Greg answered a bit startled. He'd never told Grissom he'd been working on it. "I'm about half way through with the program. About six classes left."

"Good. How many are you taking this semester?"

"Two. But I'll probably only do one next."

"That's a lot of work."

"Yeah."

More silence.

"So, where are we going?" Greg asked, hoping to steer the conversation away from himself.

"Here," Grissom said pulling into a parking lot of an old fashion looking diner.

"Okay, but aren't most crime scene's cordoned off? I mean, the place is still open."

"I thought we'd get something to eat."

Greg bit his lower lip as he got out of the SUV.

"Did Nick say anything to you?" he asked as the entered the place.

"No," Grissom answered in such a way that it was impossible to tell if he was lying or not.

They were quickly sat down near the back by the window. They each ordered, even though Greg suddenly had no appetite, and made small talk until the food came. He knew that this was the perfect opportunity to say what he'd intended on saying; he just wasn't sure how to begin.

He wanted to say it. All the way through the meal and all the way back to the office, he had really wanted to say it.

Greg hadn't practiced it all but he thought it would come out something like, 'When I was four I got leukemia. I spent seven years in and out of hospitals hoping to be cured. When I was, I knew I wanted to help people. That I loved the science of it, but I couldn't bring myself to become a doctor because I just associated it with pain. So I do this. And now it's back and I can't do this anymore.'

In his mind he could hear Grissom telling him that he could still do this and that there would always be a place for him. That he'd be fine and that the doctor's weren't even certain yet. The typical stuff. All the stuff he didn't believe.

But he hadn't said it. Not yet.

Grissom asked one last time as they pulled back into the parking garage if there was anything he needed to tell him.

"Actually yes," he found himself saying. "I…"

Grissom looked at him expectantly, hopeful even.

And he lost his nerve.

"I've been evicted."


	7. Confessions

**Happy Enough by SLynn**

**Disclaimer:** Any character you recognize, not mine.

**Notes:** Thanks again for the reviews annie, Rikzbw, white rose01, prettyredneck85, fiona. Sorry if I missed anyone, I still do really appreciate it and I'm typing as fast as I can!

**Chapter 7: Confessions**

An hour after his 'confession' to Grissom and Greg was in the lab. Hiding in plain sight. It was easier here. Here he could just process whatever came his way and not talk to anyone.

"Greg," Sara called loudly from the door way.

His music was up to its typical volume. He turned it off and looked up at her expectantly.

"What are you doing in here?"

"Work. You've heard of it right?"

"Yes, but you don't work in here anymore."

"Tonight I do."

Sara looked down. She was growing impatient. She considered Greg a friend as much as she considered anyone a friend. Especially lately as they'd worked together more, but it had its limits. He had a puppy like charm she found amusing although she'd never tell him that but this was really getting to be too much. It was time for him to snap out of it.

"No. Tonight you and I are heading back out to that crime scene for a walk-thru."

"Take someone else."

She almost didn't believe he'd said that. But he must of because now he was turned around continuing to mix what ever it was he'd been mixing before.

"What?"

"Take someone else. I'm busy here."

He wasn't looking at her. The whole time he hadn't once made eye contact with her.

"Greg. I'm going to say this one more time. Just once. Get your coat. Get your case. Get your inhaler. And get yourself down to the garage now."

Greg finally looked her in the eye. He'd never seen her this angry before, not at him at least.

"Give me a minute," he said as he begun to wrap up what he'd started.

"Good," she said as she left.

Greg went for his jacket and case, remembering his inhaler this time, and trying to figure out why he'd been such an ass back there. This wasn't Sara's fault.

Fast as he could he made it to the garage, sliding into the passengers' seat. Sara never let him drive and tonight was not the night to ask.

"So, what are we looking for?" he asked somewhat sheepishly half-way through the trip. He hoped she was still talking to him.

"Remember that photo from the other night?" she asked concentrating on the road.

'How could I forget what had caused me yet another 'oh-god-I'm-going-to-die panic/asthma attack?' he thought but only answered, "Yeah."

"Did you see what was out of place?"

"No."

"The window. It was open."

"But it's like nearly winter."

"Exactly. The Chabot's didn't open them. They would have froze. So the killer must have."

"I didn't know," was all he said as his brow furrowed.

"It wasn't easy to spot. Only one was open and we only got one good picture of it. Luckily the crime scene…"

"No, not that. I didn't know their names."

Sara turned her attention to Greg for a moment, for the first time doubting if he'd be able to handle this job. He was having a hard time with this.

"Greg, you're going to have to try and get use to it. I'm not saying treat them all like faceless victims, but you can't get wrapped up in it."

"It's just a pointless way to die."

"I know. No one should have to die that..."

"I'm not talking about them."

"I don't understand…"

"I'm talking about me."

Greg turned away from her as far as possible, completely facing the window and frantically wiping his hands on his face.

'Dear God, why now?' he thought. 'Why suddenly now I can talk about this? Why do I have to cry about this again? And what did I possibly do to you to make this whole little break-down happen in front of Sara?'

Sara had pulled the SUV over to the side of the road and thrown on the breaks unsure of what to do next.

She'd thought he'd been upset because of the murders. It had been ugly, he'd been over worked, and after the embarrassment of Monday night, she hadn't thought there'd been really that much wrong. Obviously, there was.

Sara leaned over and touched him slight on the elbow. He turned and looked at her and smiled slightly.

"I'm sorry," he said looking down, eyes red.

Once again she was at a loss. She felt that even if she did know what to say, saying it would only cause him to retreat back into himself.

"The pictures don't bother me. The bodies don't bother me as much anymore. I just keep seeing them and thinking that at least they had each other. They didn't die alone. Isn't that sick? It's so selfish and wrong of me and I can't stop. Sara, I am so scared."

This wasn't the Greg she knew. The Greg she knew was loud and flippant and so very much full of life, that the man before seemed like a cruel mockery.

"Don't cry," he said turning from her slightly, "Please don't cry."

She hadn't realized she was.

"The stupid thing is, I don't even know yet. I could be fine. I could be driving myself and everyone I know crazy for nothing."

Sara almost interrupted him to ask what he meant, but she couldn't do it. She thought that if he didn't get this out now he might never get it out.

"Leukemia," he said as he looked into her eyes. He understood that she didn't know what he was talking about and was just tired of holding it in. "They think I have leukemia again."

"Oh God Greg, I'm so…"

"Don't," he said holding up a hand as if he could physically stop the words. "Don't say you're sorry."

She was right. Her speaking seemed to break his nerve or the spell. Greg turned away from her again, quiet for a few moments.

"Everyone's always sorry," he spoke just above a whisper.

"When will you know?" she asked after a minutes more of silence.

"Monday," Greg answered in nearly conversational tones.

"You should take some time off."

"For what? So I can sit in my apartment and count the hours? Call my parents and tell them that their worst nightmares returned? I'm an only child because they were petrified to go through it again. What do I say to them?"

"Nothing until you know."

He nodded in agreement.

"I didn't mean to dump this on you. Really, I'm sorry."

"I don't want to hear that from you either," she said in all seriousness.

"Fair enough."

"So," Sara said after another few minutes and the silence had grown comfortable, "do you want to head back to the lab?"

Greg considered it for another half minute.

"No, we should keep going. I'm alright. I'm better. Let's go see if we can find something missed. Catch the bad guys and all the jazz."

Sara nodded in agreement and started back down the dark road.

As they went she was a bit taken back to feel Greg's hand resting on top of her free one. He'd only squeezed it once and then let go again so fast she wasn't sure if she'd imagined it or not.

She didn't think she had.


	8. Break

**Happy Enough by SLynn**

**Disclaimer:** Any character you recognize, not mine.

**Notes:** Thank you, thank you, and thank you for all the reviews. BabyAlyx96 and szhismine I'm glad you're enjoying it. Hopefully, as the title suggests, I'll be able to give you all a happy enough ending, but the evil earwigs in my head haven't quite decided.

**Chapter 8: Break**

It was nearly five in the morning on Sunday.

Sara and Greg had been back less then an hour, having thoroughly retraced every inch of the house. They hadn't come up empty handed either. Found a few more fibers and a definite print on the outside ledge of the master bedroom.

It had been a good night but neither one had brought up the trip.

Greg sat in the break room doing just that, taking a break. He'd realized two things. One, he hadn't worked a full night in nearly a week. And two, in a little over twenty-four hours his whole life could change.

Being in the field had helped. Work had helped. It let him forget for awhile. And he most definitely needed to forget.

"We're going to grab breakfast soon, are you in?" Warrick asked from the doorway.

"Yeah, sounds good. Who's picking?"

"I think its Cath's turn, so it'll be somewhere halfway decent at least."

Greg nodded and yawned all at once, not even bothering to cover his mouth.

"Just let me know before we go, okay?"

"You got it," Warrick said as he left.

Alone again, Greg got up and stretched. Break time was definitely over. If he stayed on the couch any longer it was going to turn into nap time. As he got up Nick walked in.

"Ah, hard at work," he said with a somewhat goofy grin.

"I'm a glutton," Greg said as he finished his stretch and stifled a fresh yawn.

"I heard you and Sara found some good stuff."

"We didn't do too bad. Okay, well she didn't do too bad. I just basically go where she points and then sit there until she tells me I can move again. I've been upgraded from lab rat to blood hound."

"You'll be collecting soon," Nick said with a laugh, "Although I think you've just earned a new nickname."

Greg laughed too, but knew it was to be short lived. He'd chickened out with Grissom, made a complete fool of himself with Sara, but he had to tell Nick no matter what the cost.

"Hey listen," he started, "do you got a minute?"

"Sure," Nick said hearing the seriousness that had crept into Greg's voice.

"This is just going to be easier to tell you now then it will be tomorrow, so I'm just going to try and say it."

Nick had a feeling where this was headed.

"Where you picked me up today, I'm not diagnosed yet. I don't know if I have it. I will soon, I'll know tomorrow. It's why I've been so different this week."

Nick almost told him that he was 'different' every week, but held back. Greg was having a hard time spitting all of this out and didn't need the distraction.

"I wanted to tell you sooner. You're the best friend I've got; I just haven't been adjusting to the idea very well."

"It's cool. I knew you'd tell me eventually."

"So you knew?"

"No," Nick said honestly, "I mean yes, I knew something was wrong and that you might be, well…"

"Sick?"

"Yeah, sick," Nick repeated feeling the weight of the word. "But I didn't know, I didn't think it was cancer. Not until Friday."

Both men looked around the room for a distraction. For the moment not able to look at each other.

"What are the odds?"

The voice caught them both off guard. Neither had noticed that Warrick had slipped back into the room.

"Um, not to good. The doctor told me that I probably had ALL, that it was all pointing to acute lymphoblastic leukemia. Normally adults don't get it, but for me it wouldn't be a new occurrence, just a relapse."

"For recovery?" Warrick clarified, sitting on the nearest table, "What are the odds for recovery?"

Greg sat back down on the couch.

"I'd have between a thirty to fifty percent chance of event-free survival."

"But you've been through this before, right? You said relapse." Nick asked trying to sound hopeful.

"Yeah, but that's not exactly event-free is it?"

"How old were you?" Warrick asked.

"Four. Almost four. I've been in remission for nearly seventeen years."

A whistle escaped his lips before Warrick could stop himself. He'd never known. Greg must have spent half his childhood in a hospital and he'd never known. Till he was at least ten or eleven, that's a long time. Made him kind of understand how come Greg could act a bit childish every once in a while. He must not have had much of a chance back then.

"Did you tell your folks?" Nick asked.

"No, I'm waiting till tomorrow. If I have to that is."

"When would you start treatment?"

"I didn't ask. I guess immediately. Well, after I find a new apartment."

Nick and Warrick both laughed. They couldn't help it. It had to be the oddest thing for anyone to say considering the subject matter. Completely unrelated and very much like the Greg they knew.

"What?" Greg said even as he joined them.

"Only you man," Warrick said, still laughing, "Only you."

"It's a valid concern," Greg said in mock defense.

"It's like you're fifth apartment this year."

"Fourth," Greg corrected Nick. "I think I'm on some kind of 'Do Not Rent' list."

"Can't imagine why," Nick said sarcastically.

"Hey, I pay my bills. I'm only occasionally late with rent, but that's mainly because I work nights and can't keep my days straight. And I'm relatively quiet."

"Greg, there isn't nothing about you that's quiet." Warrick put in.

Greg just sort of shook his head in agreement. It felt so good to laugh, even for a second.

"Seriously though," Warrick said after they'd all settled back down. "You talk with Griss yet?"

"No," he said flatly. "It's not the easiest conversation to start."

"Well you should. He'll want to know," Warrick said as he stood up again. "Help if he can."

"Yeah, I know." Greg said standing as well.

"Us too man," Nick said clapping him once on the arm. "We're here for you."

"Thanks," Greg replied, his emotions starting to get the best of him again.

"Hey," Catherine said from the door way, having just walked in.

The three of them must have looked suspicious judging by the look she returned.

"Breakfast, remember?"

"Sorry Cath," Warrick said, "we got to talking about something else. I completely forgot why I came in here."

"Sara and Gil are waiting in the lobby," she replied, not sure what had been going on. None of them looked too good at the moment. Rattled almost, but she shook it off. She knew like the rest of them that eventually Greg would make his way to her.


	9. Outlooks

**Happy Enough by SLynn**

**Disclaimer:** Any character you recognize, not mine.

**Chapter 9: Outlooks**

Gil Grissom sat across from Greg and tried to act like nothing was wrong. Sara had told him, cried even, but it still didn't seem real. It probably wouldn't seem real until he heard it from Greg himself or saw him in the hospital sick and dying. Right now, looking at him laughing and joking and generally having a good time during breakfast, it didn't seem possible.

Gil had been putting it together during the week. He'd been on to him. He'd thought Greg might have something contagious, something keeping him out of work, or something he feared would keep him out of work. He'd thought it was something like meningitis or even hepatitis at the worse. Gil hadn't thought it was cancer. He hadn't thought it would be lethal.

Looking around the table he suspected that everyone here knew except for Catherine. While they were all laughing and trading stories, Catherine's eyes were the only ones that really reflected it. The happiness was in her eyes, but in no one else's.

Greg downed his fourth cup of coffee. It was crap, but all he had. He felt exhausted. His plan had been to go home, shower, catch up on school work, pack some stuff and then sleep until shift started tonight, but now he just felt like sleeping. Maybe till tomorrow. Maybe until he got that call. It was Sunday morning and tomorrow he'd know.

Greg turned his attention to Catherine, who was telling her story about Lindsey's second grade Christmas pageant. He listened, even though he'd heard it before, laughing in all the right places, but thinking about something else entirely.

Greg couldn't help it. It's just like those damn photos only worse, because this time instead of turning over in his head his own mortality he'd turned over the life he wasn't going to have. The children and wife he'd never know.

Chemo is poison really. It kills and cures you all at once. No one worried about how much they'd given him as a child, it was the only option, but it was killing other parts of him. As he got older and the cancer had gone into remission, Greg had been told some hard truths. Things like in all likelihood he could not father a child.

It was easier to take when he was younger and he hadn't known anyone with children besides his parents. It's funny how sometimes you don't think of your own parents in those kinds of terms, as people with lives of their own. How he'd never considered how never being grandparents weighed on them. But as he got older he realized what a loss it was. After he'd seen that kind of parental pride, that kind of love in people he knew and respected like Catherine or Al, it began to hurt. It also began to keep him out of relationships.

Most women broke up with him usually after about three to four months, sometimes longer. Most didn't last past six. They didn't think he was serious about the future because he'd never talk about it. Greg had only discussed marriage and family with one girlfriend and that had been in college. Erika and he had been inseparable. They'd dated for nearly three years, the longest he'd ever been with anyone. He had wanted to marry her and she might have felt the same until he told her. Erika was the first person he'd ever told about the leukemia and about the side effects. Then it had been easier, it had been a thing of the past. Just some foot note in his life, or so he thought.

Erika grew distant. After a few weeks of short conversations and growing disenchantment, she called the whole thing off. She told him that they just wanted different things and he'd never been angrier. Greg had wanted to scream at her that it was a lie. That they wanted the same things; it was just something he couldn't give her. He'd wanted to call her out on it, but hadn't. He just let her go. Three months later he graduated and applied for this job in Las Vegas never looking back.

His parents hadn't wanted him to go. They wanted him close to them, like he'd always been, but he had to do it. Greg couldn't stay there any more. He wanted a clean start with a new town and the possibility that he'd never have to talk about his medical history again.

Pushing back his chair abruptly, nearly toppling it over, Greg got to his feet. Five sets of eyes looked up at him startled.

"Sorry," he tried, "I've got to, um, this thing, I forgot…"

He was a horrible liar, but he couldn't listen anymore. Not to Catherine, not to himself. Greg dropped some money on the table and took off for the exit.

Greg had spent the rest of the day alternating between trying to sleep and wondering if he should call in sick again that night. Ultimately deciding that stay home would be a mistake, he left for work around two in the afternoon hoping to catch a break and for once and be the first in.

He'd sat in Grissom's office for nearly an hour but wouldn't leave. He was going to do it this time. He had too. Tomorrow he'd know. Tomorrow, if it was all true, he'd have to tell him anyways. They'd probably want him at the hospital and if he was going on medical leave there would most certainly be paperwork involved.

'Besides,' he reasoned with himself, 'now is better. Now I don't know and now it's not a death sentence.'

It was nearly three-thirty when Grissom arrived. He just walked in, saw Greg sitting in the chair and shut the door behind him. He didn't even speak, just sat down across for him and waited.

"You know don't you?" Greg asked.

"I would have preferred hearing it from you."

"It's not easy to talk about."

"I can respect that," Grissom replied, thinking about his own medical problems.

The two men sat in a rather uncomfortable silence.

"Was it this morning? After I left, is that when they told you?"

"Sara told me after you came back from the scene."

Greg nodded; he should have figured that one out sooner.

"So, Catherine doesn't know?"

"No," Grissom said shaking his head, "she does. She pretty much beat it out of us after this morning."

"Well, at least I don't have to tell anyone else here," he said with a sad smile.

"If you need to take tonight off…"

"No," Greg said doing something he rarely ever did, cut Grissom off, "No. If I did that I'll probably do something stupid."

Greg caught the momentary look of real concern that flickered in Grissom's eyes as he'd said that.

"Not that stupid," he tried to correct. "I meant like getting drunk or hacking into government computers. I didn't mean anything permanent. I'm better off here where I'll have something constructive to do."

Grissom nodded in agreement. He didn't really think Greg should be alone right now but wasn't going to force him to stay.

"So I'll just go start that constructive stuff then," Greg said as he stood to leave.

"Wait a minute," Grissom called following suit.

Greg tried to prepare himself mentally. Here it came, the big you'll be fine speech he'd been dreading.

"There's some paperwork I need you to sign."

Greg looked a bit taken back. He wasn't ready for this.

"Can't that wait? The initial treatment could be outpatient. I could still work."

"It's not for that," Grissom said putting them down on the desk.

Greg looked down at the papers on the table, not sure if he believed it.

"Came through today, but it's not official until you sign."

Greg began to check his pockets for a pen, even though he was fairly certain he hadn't had one.

"Here," Grissom said handing one from his desk.

Greg quickly signed the forms and handed them back to Grissom, smiling.

"So that's it?" he asked.

"You'll need to be certified on the range, issued a gun and badge. There are few briefings you'll need to sit through, but basically, yes that's it."

"Sweet."

"Congratulations," Grissom said with a smile, shaking his hand.

"Thanks. Wow. Is there a pay raise involved?"

"No."

"Doesn't matter."

"But on the bright side, there are longer hours."

Greg laughed, knowing too well it was true. Letting it sink in. He'd actually done it. Gotten the promotion he'd been hoping for, waiting for. He was officially a part of the team.

"I should be doing that work thing then, huh?" Greg asked after a moment.

"As long as that work think doesn't involve the lab, yes you should."

"Got it," Greg said, still smiling. Smiling more then he had all week. "From now on I'll just drop things off and demand results hours before its humanly possible."

"Go," Grissom said as he laughed, sitting back down at his desk.

Greg gave him a little wave and shut the door behind him, happy. Actually happy.


	10. Support

**Happy Enough by SLynn**

**Disclaimer:** Any character you recognize, not mine.

**Chapter 10: Support**

The shift had been agonizingly slow. The highlight had of course been the staff meeting when Grissom had told everyone about his promotion. That had been great, but since then time just seemed to drag.

Not that they weren't busy.

Nick had taken him out to the first crime scene of the night. DUI. Pretty typical, only people killed weren't drunk. Also pretty straight forward.

After that, he'd gone back through the evidence of the Chabot case with Sara. That had probably been the longest part of the night. Fortunately they didn't go over pictures. Maybe Sara had finally figured what had been triggering his mood swings or maybe they just didn't need too.

The palm print they'd found outside the bedroom window had been more revealing then they could have first imagined. Together they'd returned to the scene for the third time to check the roof. The killer obviously didn't come in through the window, but maybe they'd tried to get rid of something that way. That something turned out to still be there, stuck in the rain gutter. It was the original property lines map for the area. Turned out, there was a land dispute involved. It didn't take long to track down the neighbor, whom during the initial interview had shown remorse, but this time showed only contempt.

He had a very late dinner break with Warrick. They hit the local diner, talked about the usual, and headed back.

Now it seemed like he had nothing to do but wait.

It was nearly five. Greg was already mentally calculating that he'd have at least another three hours to wait. They probably wouldn't call before eight, more then likely not until after nine. Suddenly he felt like maybe he didn't want to be here when he got that call. That maybe he did want to be alone.

"Hey man, we've got a call." Nick said from the doorway. "Grab your stuff and get to the garage. If you beat me there you might even get to drive."

Shaking off the feelings of despair that had begun to creep up on him, Greg laughed. He really did try to make it there first. No luck.

"Sorry," Nick said sounding anything but.

"Sure you are," Greg said as once more he was confined to the passengers' seat. "Where we headed?"

"Another accident. Pile-up. At least four or five cars."

Greg nodded and started messing with the radio, glad to have a distraction.

"No. None of that crap you listen too," Nick said without looking at him. "It's too early for that."

"Its better then the crap you listen too. Besides, you're driving. I'm shotgun. Shotgun picks the stations."

"Sanders, I don't care how many times you say that it doesn't make it true. My truck, my station."

"Technically it's the city of Las Vegas's truck. Should I try to find some Sinatra?"

Nick smirked at him and Greg decided to leave it off.

The accident hadn't taken long to get too. Grissom and Catherine were already there. Apparently Warrick and Sara were to be following soon.

The place was a mess. Cars were twisted every which way. To make it worse, rush hour was starting causing Greg to become slightly concerned that if cancer didn't kill him some idiot in too big of a hurry to get to work would.

There were three db's on scene. None too bad to look at, now that Greg was getting use to it. They'd all been from one of the two cars in the middle of the crash. By the time they'd swept the scene, established the initial crash sight, photographed and gone over the bodies the sun was well into the sky and Greg was shocked to find on the way back to the lab that it was nearly ten.

He checked his phone but there were no calls.

"Want to grab breakfast?" Nick asked.

"Sure," Greg said despite his previous feelings of wanting to get the call alone. He wasn't sure what he wanted right now except to finally have an answer.

This morning it was just Nick, Sara and himself at breakfast. Usually if there was breakfast to be had, it was done in a group. Greg was getting the feeling that he was being babysat. They'd all ordered and talked casually, but more then once he caught Sara or Nick looking at him expectantly as if waiting for him to tell them the news.

"They haven't called yet," he finally blurted out as they'd gotten their bills.

Sara looked down into her coffee cup and Nick just stared at him.

"I'm just going to go home and get some sleep. They'll call when they call." Greg said. It sounded false even to him.

"Do you need some one to come hang out or something?" Nick asked.

"No. Really, I'm okay."

"Greg," Sara continued the attack "you really shouldn't be alone right now. You shouldn't have to hear whatever it is alone."

"It's probably better if…"

Greg stopped mid-sentence as his cell phone came alive. It rang twice before he answered, stepping away as he did. Nick half stood to follow but Sara stopped him cold.

"Greg Sanders," he said into it. He hadn't got up to really walk away from them, it was nerves. He felt like he needed to be moving right now.

"Okay," he said "I'm ready."

He quickly met Nick and then Sara's eyes before shutting his own, hoping this would be easier to hear in the dark.

Greg felt his shoulder go slack and knew it was idiotic to be nodding to a cell phone, but found himself doing it anyway.

Nick and Sara had no idea if it was good or bad. Greg's face wasn't readable. They saw him quickly check his watch as he said "Two o'clock is fine, thanks," and then hung up.

Greg took in a deep breath and opened his eyes, knowing he'd see them there waiting.

"So?" Nick asked first, fearing he already knew the answer.

Greg sunk back into his seat and looked down at the table. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Sara wiping her hand across her face.

"Yeah," Greg said quietly. "It's back. It's positive."

He saw more then felt Nick clap him on the shoulder and knew more then heard that he must be saying something to him. He just couldn't focus on anything at the moment.

"I'm going to go get some sleep," Greg said standing to go. "They want me to talk with a specialist in a few hours, and I should really try to rest first."

He knew they protested this, and had no idea how he'd gotten around the both of them, but a mere fifteen minutes later he was back in his apartment alone, but not like he wanted.

Time, which had been dragging before, now seemed to be barreling down hill. Maybe he dozed off even because before he knew it he needed to head down to meet his new doctor at the UMC Cancer Treatment Facility.

Greg hadn't even changed or showered yet, but he went.

Dr. Tracey was nice. He liked her even though he didn't like what she had to say. His treatment would begin immediately. She wanted to start him on a six-week course of chemotherapy that day.

At first he'd balked.

Dr. Tracey insisted. She wanted him to begin the course now. It wouldn't involve IV's and it wouldn't involve a hospital stay. This was a new drug treatment, a series of pills to be taken daily at strict intervals, that would hopefully make some progress.

"And if it doesn't?" he'd asked.

Dr. Tracey had been hopeful. She'd seen good results in cases like his. Relapses. If the outpatient treatment showed signs of working he'd do a six week on, two week off medication schedule. They'd be testing his marrow every two weeks. Once clear for six weeks straight, he could go off the medication but still require six month checks for three years.

"And if it doesn't?" he asked again.

Dr. Tracey had been honest. They'd have to aggressive with in hospital treatments by IV, bone marrow transplants the works. He knew the works well. He'd lived it for quite some time.

After that he asked the typical questions, ones he mostly knew the answers too. What side effects should he expect? Nausea was the big one. Hair loss, infertility, fatigue, memory loss were all close seconds. None of it fun. Depression was a new one to hear. He wanted to laugh. How did they determine if that from the drugs or the cancer?

"What about work?" he'd asked, nearly forgetting his new position.

She knew what he did for a living and she didn't want him in the field. The drugs would lower his immune system and he'd be much more susceptible to disease. Dr. Tracey also wanted him to cut his hours down to thirty-two a week. This time Greg did laugh. He'd done that many on most weekends. But it wasn't a joke. He needed rest and if he couldn't do it outside of the hospital, she would admit him.

In the end he'd agreed to it all. She hadn't given him much choice. Still in shock, Greg gathered his meds, made his first appointment for his marrow check, and started to head home.

Before he got away entirely Dr. Tracey handed him a card with the address and times of a local support group. Greg smiled and thanked her saying he'd check it out knowing for certain he wouldn't.


	11. Period of Adjustment

**Happy Enough by SLynn**

**Disclaimer:** Any character you recognize, not mine.

**Notes:** Thanks again for the reviews: cupotrevor, marymay2012, Em, prettyredneck85, Lamborga, BlondeNeko, white rose01, A Bloom , fading-lights. A Bloom – so far chapter 7 has been the easiest and oddest to write. I actually had something different planned, but it just came out like that.

**Chapter 11: Period of Adjustment**

Calling his parents had been the hardest part of it all. He hated hearing it in their voices, that initial doubt and the slow sinking in of it all. Of course they'd immediately wanted to come out, or for him to come home. He'd refused both offers at first, but relented to having them visit. His mother was flying in on Wednesday, his father on Friday. They'd stay till Sunday and were already planning their next trip.

He finally sat and then realized he hadn't even started the meds yet.

Taking them out, four types in all, he did what any good scientist would do and made a chart. He listed all the meds, when they should be taken and with what. He was going to list the potential side effects but found he didn't have the room or the inclination. That was depressing.

Two of them were to be taken every twelve hours, the other two every six. All in all, not too bad. He took all four now, noted it was eight, and set his watch alarm to go off at two am, six hours later.

'So far, so good,' he thought as he started packing some boxes he'd gotten the other day. He'd tried reasoning with his landlady but to no avail. She wanted him out. Tomorrow he'd start to look for a new place.

A knock at the door stopped his progress.

"Greg," Grissom said standing before him.

"Oh man," was all he said, swinging the door open. "I'm supposed to be at work, aren't I?"

"Yes you are."

"You're not taking back my promotion are you?"

"Depends on whether you're going to let me in or not."

Greg stepped back and ushered him inside, mentally cringing at the mess he'd made. True he'd never really unpacked much from the last move, but he still had a lot of stuff. Most of it on the floor for the moment.

"Nick and Sara told me."

Greg nodded, not sure if he was angry or relieved.

"Yeah, got my medication today. Some forms and stuff for work. They want me to cut my hours."

"Dr. Tracey called me too."

"Wow, it's like I don't even have a private life any more."

It came out more bitter then he'd meant it too, but the feeling was real.

"She thought you might not let me in on all the restrictions she'd imposed."

"She shouldn't have. I'll be good."

"I know," Grissom said, "That's why I've come to talk to you about work. I'm going to hold you to that thirty-two hour week."

"No buts," he continued before he could be interrupted. "This is serious; you can't be over extending yourself. I'll be watching your hours personally. I don't care how you work it out except that I don't want you there for more the six hours a night. Take as many days off as you need, but call first. We clear?"

"Crystal."

"Good."

The both stood in front of each other for a moment.

"If you need anything Greg, I want you to call. I know I probably won't be your first choice, but I'm here."

"Thanks," Greg said staring at his feet to avoid meeting his gaze.

"Looks like you've got a plan worked out," Grissom said after another pause, indicating Greg's newly drawn up chart.

"Yeah, good times."

"I'll let you get some rest," he said with a slight laugh, turning to go.

"I appreciate it, really." Greg said showing him to the door. "I should be in tomorrow."

"See you then," was all he said as he walked out.

Greg shut the door behind him and decided to leave the packing for later, opting instead for a shower. He must have stayed in for at least half an hour, just letting the water run over his head. Just standing there not thinking was about the best thing he could imagine for the time being.

He was in bed by nine-thirty and asleep almost as soon as he'd shut his eyes. Greg had never had vivid dreams before and tonight was no exception. Except tonight he woke unexpectedly a few hours later with a blinding headache. It was just after midnight and Greg barely made it to the bathroom before throwing up. Without thinking he'd gone for his medicine cabinet, looking for aspirin. It was just as he was taking them when it dawned on him that aspirin was on the 'no' list.

He had made a 'no' list to go with his chart.

Some things on it were more serious then others. Aspirin was one of them as it was likely to have a negative reaction with the drugs he was already taking. Settling for water he peeled off his t-shirt which was soaked with sweat. Moving to the living room, he plopped down on the coach and switched on the television.

He couldn't believe it. Only four hours into his first dose and he was already sick as a dog. It sucked. Just as he dozed off again, headache finally subsiding, his alarm went off.

Two o'clock. Time for the next dose.

Greg stumbled his way to the counter to retrieve the two new pills he had to take. These he took with milk. The label said to take it with food, but he doubted he could hold anything down. Milk would have to do.

Resetting the alarm for another six hours, he sprawled out on the couch again and drifted into an uneasy sleep.

The next morning Greg awoke once more to his alarm.

Eight o'clock. Time for the next dose.

He quickly updated his chart, deciding later he'd do up a spreadsheet instead on his computer. He didn't want anyone else coming over and peaking at it. They'd probably think he was being a bit anal for how detailed he was, and he didn't want to argue the difference between anal and meticulous. Greg was meticulous. He marked down exactly when he took the meds, what he'd had with them and any noted side effects. He wanted a record. The part of him that got a kick out of cellular fusion was interested and it might be easier if he just treated the whole thing like a science fair project. Detached himself as much as he could from the fact that his body had basically turned against him.

Greg managed to keep busy enough for most of the day, but couldn't forget. He searched out a few apartment complexes on the internet, got most of his things in order for the move, and generally tried to keep a positive attitude again without much success. He hadn't thrown up again but he also hadn't really felt like eating.

Deciding that he had to go back sooner or later, and remembering he told Grissom he'd be in that night, at six o'clock he left for the lab. He hadn't yet decided what hours he'd work, but knew that Grissom would likely have told everyone to run him out after too many.

From the moment he entered the building he had felt out of place. The receptionist gave him a double take confirming his suspicions. Archie, Bobby, Jacqui. Yep, they had all given him the same look. He felt scrutinized and he knew that they all must have heard.

The rest of the way he refused eye contact with anyone. Angry now Greg sat down in the locker room rubbing his hands through his hair. Hearing the door open behind him, he took a guess at who it was.

"So was there a meeting or just an email?" he asked without turning round.

"Nothing like that," Nick answered "but it was tactfully spread."

"Tactfully," Greg repeated turning and standing to face him. "PowerPoint then?"

"Greg."

"No, seriously. You must have all gotten together and discussed the problem. Me. Talked about who was going to take me to appointments, hold my hand, wipe my ass."

"Come on now."

"I don't need special treatment. I don't need sympathy."

"No one said you did."

"No one had to say it."

Nick shook his head in frustration. He knew Greg wasn't trying to pick a fight with him, that he was just angry with the situation, but it was getting hard to remember that. Greg normally wasn't confrontational. In fact, he'd never seen him confrontational. But Nick didn't handle confrontation well. It didn't suit either of them.

"What do you want me to say here? We're concerned. I'm concerned."

"Don't be."

Nick was losing patience and his temper.

"I can get that this is hard for you."

"No you can't," Greg yelled back at him.

'Maybe Greg was trying to pick a fight with me,' Nick thought as he simultaneously sought to remember that doing so would be a bad thing.

"I just want everyone to act normal. I want to come here for as long as I can and feel normal, but I can't because of the stares and whispers. This is all I have now and I don't even have it anymore."

Nick didn't know what to say.

"Forget it," Greg said jerking open his locker and taking out his bag. "I'm going home."

"No, come on. Stay. It won't be any easier tomorrow. You really should just stay now and get it over with."

Greg considered it for half a second, then turned and left.


	12. Overprotective

**Happy Enough by SLynn**

**Disclaimer:** Any character you recognize, not mine.

**Chapter 12: Overprotective**

By the next day Nick had called twice, both times receiving no answer. Sara had called as well, still avoided. Even Catherine had tried to reach him on both his home and cell phones.

Greg just wasn't answering. He knew he should, knew he needed to at least tell him he was okay, but couldn't do it. He didn't want pity any more. Instead he called Grissom knowing he'd be at lunch and left a message on the machine saying he'd be in the next night.

'Besides,' he'd reasoned 'I am picking up my mom today. I should spend her first night in town with her.'

Jeff and Maggie Sanders had never wanted their only son living in Las Vegas. They wanted him no further then San Francisco where he'd gone to college. His father worked in the city as a software engineer and his mother taught second grade at a private school in the suburbs. They were well to do but not fabulously wealthy.

The also hadn't wanted him to work for the crime lab. It's not that they completely disagreed with their son's decisions in life. They respected that he was old enough to decide on his own, they just wanted him safe. After years of watching him suffer they didn't want to see him hurt again.

Seeing him at the airport confirmed Maggie's worst suspicions. He looked tired and the medicines, although only in him a few days, already appeared to have drained some of his color.

Despite the cold afternoon weather they were experiencing, Greg blasted the air conditioner all the way back to his apartment. She knew that he would combat all attempts at what he termed her 'coddling', but she couldn't help but run a hand past his forehead. It was very warm.

"My body's just adjusting to the medication," he said as he pulled back from her touch. "In a few days I'll be fine."

She doubted it, but held her tongue.

Arriving at his apartment she couldn't contain the sigh.

"How do you live like this?" she asked, as she stepped around the boxes he'd been packing.

"It's not normally this bad," was his short answer.

"Every time I come here it is."

Greg didn't respond. He didn't want to fight with her so soon, not over something so stupid. Instead he offered to take her bag into his room and like it or not, they had their first fight.

She didn't want to inconvenience him, he needed his rest, and she'd sleep on the couch.

It wasn't an inconvenience, he hardly slept anyway, and he'd sleep on the couch.

It was exactly why he hadn't wanted her to come.

Deciding to drop the subject all together, he asked about his dad, her job, anything to keep her from smothering him with attention. She seemed to have caught the hint and they sat down and had a very nice conversation about everything but Greg and his cancer.

Then Greg's cell phone went off.

After three rings Maggie asked him if he wanted her to answer it. He declined and picked it up.

"Greg Sanders," he said into it as he watched his mother get up and begin to tidy up his kitchen.

"No, I've got a minute."

He peeked around the corner and saw his mother checking the contents of his fridge. Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to the call.

"I'm sure you can save it, no, if you just…"

Greg stopped and listened to the panicked voice on the other end. The new lab tech seemed to think that she'd destroyed all the evidence, had completely freaked out and then called him.

"Put it under the hood immediately," he said as clearly as he could.

"No," he said shaking his head and looking up as his mother walked back in, curious at the exchange taking place. "No, do not tell anyone yet. Not until we know if it's really gone."

Greg sighed. 'God was I ever this clueless.'

"Amy, there's no point in … Are you listening? Okay, there's no point in telling Griss that you've wrecked evidence unless we're sure."

Greg smiled up at his mom momentarily, feeling a bit too grown up. She'd been thinking the same thing.

"Stall them. Say anything you'd like, just stall them. I'm coming in."

Maggie looked at him surprised.

"I know I don't work there anymore, but it'll be fine. It will. Calm down, it'll take me less then ten minutes to be there."

Greg was already going for his coat and keys.

"Thank me after we fix it," he said with a smile. "Bye."

Maggie was still giving him that look.

"I've got to go in," he said as he pulled on his coat and then grabbed his medications. He'd be there at least past his next dosage.

"Can't some one else go?"

"No," he said truthfully. Hodges would just yell at her or make her feel stupid, and Greg kind of felt responsible for her. Amy was new and nice and didn't need the grief.

"What did you mean when you said you didn't work there anymore?"

Greg had hoped to avoid this topic. While he personally was thrilled to be promoted, he didn't think either of his parents would feel the same.

"Can we talk about it when I get back?" he asked, hoping she'd forget.

"Okay, but please don't stay long. You really shouldn't be working at all."

"You can reach me by cell," was his way of avoiding it as he ran out the door.

Fifteen minutes later he was in the lab and looking over what had been done. Amy had explained it all, again, and wasn't nearly as frantic as she'd been on the phone.

"This isn't that bad," he said looking through the microscope. "I think it'll be fine."

"Really?" she asked, leaning up near the door frame. Greg had told her to keep watch.

"Yeah, come look."

Amy walked over and peered into the scope. There was still enough viable to get a good DNA match. Apparently Amy had accidentally spilt one of the chemicals in the lab onto the only blood stain found at the latest crime scene that hadn't matched the victims. A good eighty percent was destroyed, but they'd be able to work with what remained.

"Thank you," she said looking up at him in relief. "Thank you so much. I thought for sure I was going to get fired."

"Are you kidding? If I didn't get fired for all the crap I've done, there's no way they'd fire you for an accident."

"I'd be lying if I didn't say it was hard living up to the standards you've set."

Greg actually blushed. Amy was a few years younger then himself, not but a year out of college at least. She wasn't what he typically thought was attractive, but she definitely had his attention.

"The only standards I set around here were in decibel levels."

"If only," she smiled. "No, the way everyone talks about you around here, I think you'd be surprised."

"Well, I'm not too surprised if they're talking about me at the moment," he said somber again.

Amy's smile had gone too.

'Of course she knows,' Greg figured. He'd hoped maybe she hadn't.

"So, what do I do now?"

"You have to file a report," Greg continued, shrugging off the uneasiness. "and tell Grissom. Trust me, he responds well to honest confession. If you try to hide this, he'll know. He's omnipresent, kind of like Santa, only no reindeer. Or presents. And he doesn't laugh a lot."

"So the stories about the elves are true?"

"Every word."

Greg smiled again.

"You're going to be fine," he said as he headed out of the lab towards the break room.

Glad he didn't have to go far to find who he was looking for, Greg sat down across from Nick at the table.

"Did I mention that one of the side effects of the numerous drugs I am now taking was that I might become a complete ass to my friends and co-workers?"

Nick looked up at him and laughed.

"That would have been good to know sooner."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about yesterday."

"No problem. Any particular reason you braved the stares and whispers of your co-workers today and graced us with your presence?"

Greg looked at him oddly.

"I saw you in the lab with Amy."

"That?" Greg asked, unable to fight the blush he felt rise in his cheeks, "No, she just needed some help with something. It's nothing."

"Ah," Nick said, not relenting. "So you're going the subtle route. I get it."

"Greg doesn't know where the subtle route is," Sara said walking in on the two.

"I'm wounded. I thought I was very subtle when I was wooing you."

"Okay, wooing? No one woos anymore. And subtle? No."

Greg gave her a look of shock to which she laughed.

"Seriously, what brought you back so soon?" Nick asked again. "Griss said not to expect you in tonight."

"I might have overreacted a bit," Greg conceded.

Nick and Sara both fixed him with a gaze that clearly showed they knew there had to be more to the story.

"And my mom is in town, at my apartment now probably re-arranging my sock drawer and looking for porn."

"Ew," Sara said, standing up to leave.

"That bad?" Nick asked with a laugh.

"You have no idea."


	13. Falling Down

**Happy Enough by SLynn**

**Disclaimer:** Any character you recognize, not mine.

**Chapter 13: Falling Down**

Greg got home just after midnight to find his mother asleep on the couch. Unwilling to give in so easily he slept in the recliner until it was time for his two a.m. medication. Not able to sleep afterwards, he sat down and did another quick internet search for apartments in the area.

At just before five he dozed off again in the recliner and was awakened not long after by the smells of breakfast.

"Where'd this come from?" he asked, completely confused at the types and sheer amount of food his mother was now preparing in the kitchen. "And who's coming over to eat it all?"

Maggie laughed.

"You're skinny."

"I've always been skinny, I don't remember you ever cooking for ten to try and compensate."

"I thought you might want some breakfast."

Greg plopped down in the nearest chair. Truthfully, breakfast was the last thing he wanted. Nothing sounded appetizing to him but still he humored her and took a little of everything.

"Are you going to tell me?" she asked, sitting down beside him, just a cup of coffee for herself.

"What?" he asked in return, mouth full of food that was making his stomach rumble but not from hunger.

"How come you don't work there anymore? Did you quit the lab? You loved it there."

Greg rolled his eyes and grew fascinated with his breakfast.

"I didn't quit."

Maggie fixed him with one of her looks that told him that he'd better start explaining.

"I got promoted."

"Promoted?" she asked, mildly surprised. "To what? Greg, you're a chemist. What could they possibly…"

She stopped, understanding now.

"I just started," he said putting down his fork in favor of coffee. It wasn't a complete lie. He had just been promoted. His mother didn't need to know he'd been working for it for nearly a year now, out in the field exposed to all the dangers she could imagine.

"So you're doing field work. With the police?"

"Yes."

She nodded and said nothing more. Maggie knew what that meant. He'd have a gun too, would technically be a part of the police force. It made her very uneasy.

"I'm not doing it now," he said, trying to reassure her as best he could. "My doctor doesn't want me in the field because of the medication. I'm still mostly doing stuff back at the lab."

She smiled weakly at him and got up beginning to clean the dishes. Now was not the time for this. She could bring it back up again later and maybe even work up the nerve to ask him about his bruised eye. She knew from experience not to pry too much or push to soon. Greg bluffed big, talked big, but was actually very reserved.

"So," Greg tried again, "I need a new place. Thought I'd start looking today and could use your opinion."

"Is that why there are all these boxes?" she asked, willing to drop the previous conversation and move on if he was. "You go through apartments like they were socks."

Greg smiled glad for once not to get the usual twenty questions about why he was moving again. Maggie and Jeff had mostly chalked it up to his semi-nomadic instinct. Even as a child Greg had never liked to sit still.

"Have you made up a list?" she asked, and then laughed. "Look who I'm asking. Of course you have."

"Still a firm believer in it," he said laughing, holding up his latest. "I'm just going to go get ready and we can go."

Maggie said nothing as he took off to take a shower and probably take his medicine. Listened as he shut the bathroom door behind him before sitting down herself, frustrated and tired.

Greg turned on the sink to drown out the sound. He was going to be sick again. Could feel it but didn't want to worry his mom. After what seemed an eternity, it finally came up and he was able to wash his face and take his medicine. A bit light headed, he held on tightly to the sink in front of him hardly recognizing his own reflection. He did look bad, pale and still pretty bruised from his encounter with Mandy's new dream guy. No wonder everyone kept staring.

Greg shook it off and splashed some water on his face. Looking down at his hands he was startled to see blood. His blood. Shock gave way to resignation, as he confirmed in the mirror that he was indeed bleeding from his nose. Resignation became panic when he begun to realize that it just wasn't a little nose bleed, he was really putting out a lot of blood, starting to make a mess even. Groping blindly for a towel behind him, he held back his head, and meant to sit on the toilet. He just missed, slipping to the floor and banging his head against the tub beside him.

For a second it dawned on him that this is what people meant when they said they were seeing stars, but after that it was just dark.

An hour had passed before he awoke again. An hour that seemed like a minute. Greg was disoriented to say the least.

"Mom?" he asked weakly, looking around the room. He was in a hospital, had to be. He remembered the smell.

"She just stepped out," a voice said from just behind him.

He tried to turn and see who the voice was coming from; it wasn't familiar. Soon the owner of the voice appeared herself.

"She's talking with Dr. Tracey in the hall," the nurse said brightly. "I'll let them know you're awake."

Greg watched her go while wondering if this was all a bad dream. How'd he get in the hospital? He didn't have to wait long for the answer. Dr. Tracey came in soon after the nurse had left with his chart in hand.

"How are you feeling?" she asked as if she'd just stopped by to chat.

"Okay, I guess."

Something in her look forcibly reminded him of Grissom. She was like a human lie detector.

"Do you remember what happened?"

"No, not really. I think we were going out."

"You didn't make it," she said sitting down beside him.

She paused for a long time, reading his expression and taking in his features.

"Greg, I was very serious when I stressed that you needed to stay rested. I understand that you've been very strict about taking your medication, which is good, but it's not good enough. Talking with your mother I hear you've had a few long nights."

"It's not like I have a strenuous job," he tried arguing.

"It doesn't have to be strenuous to be stressful."

"Last night was the longest I'd been at work since finding out. Honest."

She nodded, but didn't seem to believe it.

"You're very sick Greg. I'm not lying when I say that. You don't want to hear it, I know. You don't want to believe that you can't do everything you could before, but you can't. You obviously haven't been sleeping or eating well. That is a huge contributor to this episode."

"The medicine is making it hard to sleep or keep much down."

Dr. Tracey jotting this down on his chart.

"Did you look into the support group I suggested?"

"No."

"I think you should. You might sleep easier if you didn't feel like you were the only one dealing with these same issues."

Greg blinked back a few tears that had threatened his eyes and turned towards the window.

"Your mother suggested that she take you back to San Francisco with her. That you begin treatment at Stanford medical again where she could look after you easier."

"And?"

"And I told her I thought it was a mistake. You obviously have roots here and taking you from that now might spiral you into a depression. I also told her I thought you should continue working, but only if you agree to stick to the restrictions."

"I'm sure she took that well."

"She just wants what's best for you."

"I know," Greg said quickly.

"I'm readjusting your medication. That should help with the queasiness. Sometimes it takes a week or two to get them just right. You're being released in an hour. No work tonight. And if you get this sick again call me."

"I will."

"You'd better," she said, smiling for the first time since he'd known her.


	14. Show and Tell

**Happy Enough by SLynn**

**Disclaimer:** Any character you recognize, not mine.

**Chapter 14: Show and Tell**

The rest of that day and most of the next passed relatively quickly. Greg mostly submitted to his mothers babying, rested and ate what he could, and checked back with work without arousing to much suspicion about his not coming in.

Things looked good, especially with his father arriving.

Maggie Sanders had always been a bit nervous and much more of a nurturer then her husband. Even if Greg had never been sick she'd of likely been just as hard pressed to put up with the separations and life choices her son had made. She hadn't wanted to let go of him from the moment she'd first held him in her arms, it was just who she was.

Jeff Sanders was very different from his wife. He loved his son, cared and worried about him, but was much more free spirited. In his eyes his son was a man capable of making his own choices and mistakes and paying for them if necessary. It was his father who had encouraged his son in pursuits outside of the academia. Told him that there was more to life then what he could learn in a book. Jeff had just assumed that if Greg gone through the sacrifice and pain of beating cancer the first time, he should be allowed to live his life as a reward.

Together they were a good blend. She also had her playful side, working with children you couldn't be completely serious all of the time. And he had his serious side as well and was successful at his job because of it. They made a great team. The three of them made a great family. The exception being that when they did argue it was undoubtedly about Greg.

Greg was genuinely happy to see his father. Not just because it had been awhile, his father hadn't ever made it out to Vegas before, but also because he'd insist on a hotel room to give Greg his space. That and true to form, he knew that his father would want him to show him the lab and introduce him to his friends and co-workers.

His mother, having visited a few times before, had never been there herself and was equally eager to see where Greg spent the majority of his time but only if he felt up to it.

Greg signed them both in at the front desk and wasn't really sure what to do next. Before they got too far they ran into Brass.

"Hey Greg," Jim Brass said stopping upon seeing him, "How are you doing?"

"Good," Greg said, attributing the sudden niceness from the man he knew thought he was a 'complete goofball' to his newly acquired status of cancer patient. "These are my parents, Jeff and Maggie. Mom, Dad, this is Detective Jim Brass."

After handshakes and pleasantries, Greg got another surprise.

"Bright kid you've got here. Always does excellent work."

"We're very proud of him," Jeff replied and Greg felt his ears flush with embarrassment.

"Should be; beat out a list of applicants a mile long for that promotion. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to get this down to the station. Greg, nice seeing you. Enjoy your stay."

Brass was again walking down the hall towards the exit, so Greg continued on, trying to keep the flush from his ears from reaching his face. He wasn't use to compliments. In the lab it had been mostly yells and demands peppered with an occasional thanks. He knew he'd been valued for the work he did but never felt appreciated.

"This is the trace lab, which no one is in right now. We test basically any substance that comes off of a victim or suspect here and try to find where it came from, possibly how it go there."

Greg continued to ramble on, next showing them the DNA lab he'd spent most of his time. Amy was there and looked surprised to find a tour in progress.

"Amy Chen, my parents." Greg said as way of introduction.

"Jeff Sanders," his dad said, smiling and leaning in to shake her hand.

Amy held back.

"I'd shake but I might give you something," she said, holding up her gloved hands.

"I'm Maggie, nice to meet you."

"You too," Amy said, still looking every bit as nervous as she had when they'd arrived.

"So this is where we test blood types, run DNA, search CODIS, that kind of thing. This was my old place, but now Amy's taken over."

There was no point in rehashing the promotion with his dad. Greg knew that his parents had already discussed it, if only because of his mother's steady silence about the issue. His father must have pulled through for him again.

"We'll get out of your hair now," Greg said after a pause and proceeded down the hallway.

He slowed as he approached Grissom's office, not sure if he should really be taking the liberty of introducing his parent to him. The whole debate became a moot point when Grissom walked out and saw them before Greg had even decided what to do.

Gil Grissom had met Maggie Sanders once before, after the accident in the lab. She'd flown in and spent a good deal of time making sure Greg was alright and recovering, but they had only talked twice. He got the feeling that she hadn't liked him much largely because he was the boss and ultimately responsible for any bad things that happened to her son while he was in his care.

"Gil Grissom," Greg said noting how odd it felt to say his full name, "my parents Jeff and Maggie."

"Jeff, Maggie" Gil said shaking each of their hands in turn.

"My dad wanted to see where I worked so I was just showing them around."

Grissom smiled a bit and wanted to tell him that he didn't need to give him an excuse, but didn't. He also didn't want to embarrass Greg.

"Well you've come at the perfect time. We're fixing to take a dinner break, why don't the three of you join us?"

Jeff agreed immediately, anxious to meet his sons other co-workers and friends. Maggie did so mostly out of politeness. Greg would have rather pulled out his toenails with rusty pliers. Showing his parents around, introducing them was one thing, sitting through a full meal was another. But he'd been left with little choice.

"Where too?" he asked, dreading it already.

Half an hour later and Greg wanted to crawl out the bathroom window.

Catherine and Maggie got along great. Maybe because they were both mothers, or maybe because they really did have similar personalities, Greg wasn't sure which. He'd always thought so, just never dared tell Cath. No woman, regardless of the type of relationship you might have, ever wants to hear that they remind them of your mother.

Al, who upon hearing Greg's parents had joined them, decided to come as well. He and Nick talked animatedly to Jeff about everything under the sun. That was the type of guy his dad was. He could talk to anyone about anything. Greg had always hoped one day to reach that level of comfort with himself but it didn't look like it was going to happen any time soon.

"You look so much like your father," he found Sara saying to him half way through the meal.

It was too true to argue. They had the same build, his father only slightly taller, and complexion. They had similar jaw lines as well, but it was the eyes that had always gotten to people. They were nearly identical in shape and color.

"So I've heard."

Sara smiled at him, knowing how trapped he must feel at the moment and kind of enjoying it.

"Sucks huh?" she asked, with a slight indication to the two of them.

"They're good people," he started before leaning in and whispering, "but I feel like I'm back in grade school doing show and tell."

"Do you think your mom would have a picture of that?"

"Don't Sidle," Greg warned. "Seriously. Sooner or later I'll be back at work full time and I swear to you, if you ask that question out loud, I will torment you until you beg for a reassignment."

"Are you threatening me? Greg, that's so cute."

"I mean it."

Sara laughed, she hadn't been serious and it was nice to have the easy banter back between them that she'd always enjoyed.

"Looks like I didn't have to," Sara said letting out a laugh. Catherine must have, because there they were, the baby pictures actually being passed around.

"Yep," Greg said, smiling tightly as they reached him, "that's my tushy."

"Aw," Sara said taking it out of his hands, "I may have to get a copy of this for the office."

Greg looked at her funny and she knew he wanted to say something more. A mischievous smile was stuck on his face, but he couldn't bring himself to say it. Not with his mother three chairs away. Sara, knowing perfectly well what was on his mind, laughed harder.

After dinner was over his parents had dropped him off at his door, agreeing to meet him again in the morning. Greg was glad to have the place to himself for the night, he'd missed his privacy. All things considered he'd had fun. He'd laughed with his friends, pleased his parents and forgotten about anything else for a time. It had felt normal. He'd felt normal. And for a time he felt nothing was impossible.


	15. Lightning

**Happy Enough by SLynn**

**Disclaimer:** Any character you recognize, not mine.

**Notes:** I'm really not sure how this is going to sit with anyone. We'll see I guess. Again, I seem to have no control over this story anymore. It's leading me down its own path regardless of where I'd intended to go. But I'm pretty sure this is just a detour. Thanks for the reviews: Sillie, white rose01, Rikke, and fading-lights – I'm glad you liked that line, so far it's my favorite. And Em – thank you for the squee! even if I don't know what that is. :)

**Chapter 15: Lightning**

After his parents had left Greg fell into an easy routine.

He got up, took his meds and then usually studied for a while. Depending on how he felt, sometimes he'd go for a run, sometimes a walk. Greg had been careful and asked Dr. Tracey first if it would be alright and she'd agreed as long as he stayed properly rested and hydrated.

About this time he'd feel hungry. Exercise was about the only thing that made him hungry any more so he was happy he'd been cleared to do so. Despite the fact that he could now hold down his food, Greg had dropped nearly twenty pounds.

After a meal he'd nap. He really was tired a lot. Depending on when he'd wake, Greg would either run errands or just get ready and go in to work. He still worked most nights, but now for only four to five hours at a time. It was hard staying behind on cases and staying out of the lab. Sometimes he snuck back in and helped Amy if she was really swamped, but he had begun learning new things. Fingerprinting was a big one. He'd always been comfortable with it, but now he found it fascinating. Jacqui was an excellent teacher, helped him out a lot and he was getting better at it each day.

Greg found that most nights he was home just after midnight. He might grab a quick snack but more often then not he just went straight to bed.

All of this begun, of course, after Nick and Warrick had helped move him into his new apartment. The new place wasn't bad but he still hadn't really unpacked anything.

Also during this time he finally got qualified on the range. Nick and Sara had alternated taking him out and practicing until he felt comfortable. It wasn't an easy thing to get use to. Carrying a gun was a big responsibility, one both Nick and Sara had stressed repeatedly without really needing too. Not that he would be carrying one until he was allowed back into the field but it had felt like a step in the right direction.

His first bone marrow test was fairly optimistic. The cancer cells present hadn't dropped dramatically. Statistically, it wasn't even a change, but they hadn't increased either. That seemed enough to satisfy Dr. Tracey for the time being. Greg had feared she'd want to become more aggressive if there hadn't been a significant drop. He wasn't ready to be hospitalized.

All in all things were going well. Then, midway through his third week of treatment, Greg noticed that his hair was falling out. In the days leading up to this discovery he'd been seeing more and more hair in the sink and had just tried ignoring it. What he couldn't ignore was that this time in the shower, as he'd washed his hair, a clump of it had fallen out and hit the floor with a splat.

Greg got out of the shower and again found himself staring at his reflection.

That night he'd gone in at the usual time, just making the pre-shift meeting. Greg had stationed himself in the back, for the first time in a long time not wanting to be there. All those same feelings of dread he'd thought he'd dealt with and put to rest were already resurfacing.

Grissom was running late as he entered the room. They had a few hot cases they needed to get to and he was in a hurry. If he'd really thought it through, hadn't been so rushed, he'd of never said it. He would have known and just kept his mouth shut. But strictly out of habit, the same way he'd done to Nick and Warrick a thousand times before, he'd looked up and said, "Greg, hats off indoors."

Grissom hadn't seen the look on his face as it happened, but no one else missed it.

Greg slowly pulled off the wool cap he'd tried to cover up with and said nothing. Warrick and Catherine, the only others there, tried to discreetly look elsewhere, but he knew they were shocked.

When Grissom did look up and really saw Greg he almost asked him to put it back on. He knew that would be wrong. Knew that doing that would probably hurt worse then when he'd forced him to remove the hat in the first place.

Grissom had always had a hard time picturing Greg sick. Even after he'd found out and seen the drugs and disease start to take a bit of him each day. After Greg's initial bought of understandable depression, he'd bounced back. He'd seemed to go on living and fighting. He'd been very strong, not just for himself, but for everyone. And now, looking at him, head shaved and growing thinner by the minute, he didn't just see him as sick. He saw Greg as dying.

After the meeting Grissom hadn't stuck around. He knew he should talk to Greg, try to explain his behavior, and found it odd that he couldn't bring himself to do it. Catherine followed close on his heals, evidently ready to force him back in there to do something. Warrick had gone as well. He hadn't known what to say any more then Grissom had. For his part Greg had had enough for the night. He shoved the hat down over his ears and headed for the nearest exit.

"Greg," Amy called as he stormed past the lab on his way out.

He didn't answer, didn't stop and didn't even look back.

Before long he was back at his apartment and on his second beer. Alcohol was about as high up the 'no' list as aspirin but he just didn't care. He didn't want to see those faces in his head anymore. Those looks his friends had given him clearly said 'Greg Sanders is a dead man.' He just wanted to erase it all and that not being possible the next best thing was a nice little black out.

Greg was on his fifth beer when it struck him that he was actually feeling very drunk. Normally not a light weight, four or five beers didn't usually do much to him. Maybe it was because he hadn't drank in so long, or the medication even, but it seemed to hit him hard tonight. He even thought he'd heard bells. After a second 'hallucination', he realized he had heard bells because his new apartment had a door bell.

He swung the door open without even looking, dangerous in any city but damn near suicidal in Vegas. Luck was with him in one form or another because on the other side was Sara.

"Hey," he said swaying heavily into the door.

"You're drunk," she said flatly, disapproval just behind her eyes.

"And bald," he retorted, rubbing his head for effect.

"Griss and Cath were worried."

"But yet, they aren't here."

Sara pushed her way past him into the apartment. Greg fumbled with the door again, slamming it loud enough to make both of them to jump. Sara threw him a look and he just kind of shrugged his shoulders in an exaggerated wince.

"And I wonder why I keep getting evicted."

She didn't want to encourage him, but smiled anyways.

"Do you want a drink?" he asked, skipping right past the obvious question of why she was there.

"No, and you're not having another either. It's not smart to mix…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know already." Greg cut her off as he sank into his couch.

"Why are you doing it then?"

"That's not really your business."

"Alright," she said, willing to except that answer for now.

"Did they ask you to come baby sit me?"

"No. I stopped by the office and they told me what happened. No one asked me to come."

"You are a terrible liar Sidle."

"You're a terrible drunk."

"Guess I need practice."

"Damn it Greg," Sara said really irritated now. "Why are you doing this to yourself? It's a side effect of the drugs, you know that. It's only hair and it's going to grow back."

"You weren't there. I don't care what they told you, you weren't there. I've never seen them look so scared before and it was because of me."

"Greg…"

"No, hear me out. You asked, now hear me out. They think I'm dead already. And I might as well be because I feel like I am. I feel empty. If the cancer doesn't kill me the chemo won't leave me with a reason to live. You don't understand. I've been on autopilot for weeks. Just going through each day like it was the next. I just exist now, I'm not living. I'm surviving and I don't have a reason too other then it's what I've always done."

Tears had begun to slide down his face as he paced the room, really agitated now but sobering up.

"What is it about your presence that makes me cry?" he asked, half-serious, half-kidding. "Somehow you always do. You make me feel it all a hundred times more then I do any other time. How do you make me do this? Make me feel this?"

"But you feel something now, right?" she answered in the same tone.

"I don't want too, not this. I don't want to feel anger. I don't want to feel sick, or hurt, or pity, or anything like that."

Greg was surprised to find Sara closer to him now, in front of him. Staring at him like she'd never seen him before. Her hands on his arms steadying him before sliding down into his own.

"I just want…"

Sara pulled him towards her. Wrapped herself around him as if that gesture alone would give him strength. She didn't want to see him like this. He was falling apart around her, and she didn't know what else to do.

"I want to feel alive," he whispered into her hair.

She leaned back and looked up at him again. Staring and then not. They both moved simultaneously, deliberately and slowly into each other closing their eyes as their lips met. It began slow, patient and tense, but quickly changed to something else. Need, hunger, passion and lust all took their turn. It was there raw and unchecked between them.

And then like a flash of lightning, over.

**A/N:** Yeah, I re-read this like eight or nine times, deciding whether or not to add it. I almost took it out, not sure if it fit the characters, but ultimately here it is. I'm still not sure it fits the characters, but it feels right in context of the story. I don't claim to be a Greg/Sara shipper and I can't promise anything past this scene. Tell me what you think. I didn't warn at the top because I wanted any anti-shippers to read it with an open mind. That and I like surprises. 


	16. Truth and Consequences

**Happy Enough by SLynn**

**Disclaimer:** Any character you recognize, not mine.

**Notes:** Thanks to come in the next chapter, but I wanted to warn you up front. Here there be rough waters. Tread lightly. I'm glad everyone likes the mix of humor and sadness, but the next two chapters have virtually no laughs that I can recall. I can only say that it will get better. Just not soon. Thanks again!

**Chapter 16: Truth and Consequences**

His head felt like it had been used as a war drum.

Hearing the phone ring, still dark out, he got up and fumbled round his room until locating the offender. Squinting at the clock, half-past four, he thought maybe Amy was having another crisis in the lab. It would be the only reason to call.

"Greg Sanders," he mumbled, sitting back onto the bed and rubbing his eyes.

Trying to wake up enough to speak coherently, nothing Hodges said was making any sense.

"No. I don't know. You must have misdialed."

Greg tried to adjust to the little light there was in the room.

"Well, the list is alphabetical. Sanders and Sidle are close if I'm remembering how that works," he said growing weary. Why couldn't Hodges just admit he'd called the wrong number?

"Are you on crack or what? Why would I have Sara's…" Greg's voice trailed off as it came back to him. Turning to look, sure enough, there was Sara asleep in bed beside him.

"What?" He'd forgotten he was having a conversation. "No. You dialed wrong. Try again."

Greg hung up the phone and put it back on the dresser where he'd found it.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath, rubbing his hands over his head.

Not two seconds later Sara's phone came to life again.

Picking it back up he walked around the bed and sat down at Sara's side.

"Sara," he said in a loud whisper.

"What? What is it?" she asked, sitting up rubbing his arm.

He handed her the phone. He didn't bother to explain what had just happened, it would take to long.

"Sidle," she said into it, sitting up further and pushing away a bit.

Greg took it as a hint and stood up, pacing the room.

"Hasn't rang all night, what've you got for me?"

Even in the darkness Greg could see the look she'd given him.

"Huh. Match? Good. Hold on to it, I'll be in soon."

Sara hung up the phone and said nothing.

"I'm sorry," Greg offered. "It was dark and I thought it was mine."

He turned round as she got up, not wanting to stare and feeling completely out of place.

"No worries," she said, her voice a bit sharper then he'd been use to hearing. "I've got to go. He just got a match in CODIS on that case from last week with the transvestite."

Greg followed her out of the bedroom towards the front door.

"Are we going to talk about this?" he asked, as she put on her jacket and searched for her keys.

"Can't right now," Sara answered, avoiding his eyes. "I've got to get in to the lab."

He nodded curtly, biting his lips to hold his tongue.

"I'll see you tonight," she said.

"Yep," he called back as she smiled once and left.

If he'd felt alone before, it was nothing like the feeling he know experienced.

Greg had done his best to get through the day, but it hadn't been easy. He'd gotten very little sleep or rest, a result of his only feeling slightly better when he was in motion. That afternoon he'd gone in for his second bone marrow test since beginning treatment and Dr. Tracey had not looked happy at his appearance. She'd expected the shaved head, most patients chose to do that once hair loss began, but he seemed off to her. After promising her repeatedly that he'd go straight home and to bed, he instead went to the lab.

He hadn't gone there to work.

He was much later then he'd planned on, completely missing the staff meeting. Not that he was sorry for it, he wasn't looking forward to everyone's second opinion on his new look. Greg needed to talk to Sara.

Trying the break room first, he'd almost gone inside when he'd heard something that stopped him dead in his tracks.

"That's not what I heard," he could make out as Nick's voice. "I heard that you spent the night."

"Well, you heard wrong. Nothing is happening between Greg and me."

Sara.

"He's a good guy," Warrick was saying now. "He's always had a thing for you, what's wrong with him?"

Greg wasn't sure he wanted to hear anymore of this but couldn't turn away.

"I'm not discussing this with you two, drop it. I don't know where you even get this stuff in the first place. Greg's a flirt. He's always been a flirt. I humor him, that's it."

He couldn't listen to this. Not after last night. Greg turned so quickly he hadn't seen Catherine there, nearly toppling her over in his haste.

"Greg, what's the hurry?" she asked with a good natured laugh.

Judging from the suspicious lack of voices now coming from the break room, they'd heard Catherine.

Greg shook her off and briskly walked down the hall.

Behind him he heard Catherine asking one of them what had happened, but didn't even try to listen for an answer. He just left.

A few hours later and she showed up at his place.

"I'm not drinking tonight," Greg said not bothering to hide the bitterness in his voice as he opened the door.

"I've come to talk."

"There's no need. I've heard enough."

"Can I at least come inside?" she asked.

Greg seriously thought about telling her no. He didn't want her here and he didn't need her. Instead, he just walked away himself, leaving the door open for her to follow.

"When do you get your results back from the bone marrow test?" she asked, standing uneasily just inside the doorway.

"Next week."

Greg sat himself down in his only armchair, faced slightly away from where she presently stood. Not willing to quit she sat as near as she could to him on the couch.

"Why are you here?"

"You know why I'm here," she fired back.

"Humor me."

Sara couldn't look him in the eyes after that. She had to make this right somehow.

"You weren't supposed to hear that back at the office."

"Why not? At least now I know the truth, right? Only thing that matters."

"That wasn't the truth. That was what I had to say."

"Why?" he asked, turning to her, really leaning in to get a good look at her face.

"For starters, think how it would look. I couldn't just say that I'd spent the night here Greg, they'd never understand that."

"I don't believe that. You just didn't want too. Who cares how it looks."

She shook her head in frustration. This wasn't going exactly like she'd planned, but then again she hadn't planned any part of last night either.

"You should, I do."

He stared at her in disbelief.

"Think. I'm your trainer. I write reports on you and your progress. What would that look like? What could that do to both of our careers?"

Greg leaned back, knowing she was right, but caring very little about those things.

"You could have told them though," he said after a few minutes silence. "I can only imagine what Hodges has been saying, but you could have told Nick and Warrick the truth."

Sara didn't know where he was going with this. His voice sounded odd and detached. It wasn't the Greg she'd grown use to hearing.

"Nothing happened," he finished.

She let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding in. Sara nodded and looked down at her hands. It was sinking in now how deep she'd hurt him.

"How could it?" he asked.


	17. Resignation

**Happy Enough by SLynn**

**Disclaimer:** Any character you recognize, not mine.

**Thanks To:** anna, Sillie, Roses, Sylver Phantasy, Sheela, white rose01, BlondeNeko, misty, Em, cupotrevor. Again, not sure how this chapter is going to go over either, but I hope you enjoy it never the less.

**Chapter 17: Resignation**

They hadn't talked about it since.

After a few days of tension in the office the gossip mills died down. At first it had been pretty interesting, Hodges had told just about everyone who'd listen that Sara and Greg were shacking up. He'd finally stopped after Nick issued a thinly veiled threat. Both he and Warrick felt bad. They'd been joking, hadn't taken the matter seriously at all and now it seemed like a stupid thing to be laughing at in the first place. Sara and Greg were both barely speaking to either of them, but couldn't avoid each other. She was his trainer.

Each night that they worked together they'd stay strictly on subject. They didn't joke. They didn't laugh. She no longer asked him about how he was feeling or doing, it wasn't her place. And Greg was most definitely not offering up much else. It was business only.

A week had passed and Grissom knew it was time to step in. He wasn't use to this kind of tension on his team. He'd heard the rumors. Initially he'd dismissed them without question. He thought he knew exactly what type of relationship existed between each and every member of his staff. But, as he watched the days go by, he began to reassess the situation. There was something more here.

He'd decided on direct confrontation. First he'd talk to Sara, never doubting she'd tell him the truth. Sara was good with truths. He thought she might object on the grounds that it didn't really fall into the scope of duty. How she spent her off time, and who she spent it with, wasn't really his concern. He'd just have to argue that considering the effects it was.

If that didn't work, he didn't know what he'd do. He had little hope that Greg would tell him anything. He looked worse and worse as the days past. Greg was working about twenty hours a week now and it seemed to be too much. He came in sporadically throughout the night, never the same time any more, his hours fluctuating continuously.

That's what had stunned him. Before he'd had a chance to confront either of them, Greg approached him, waiting in his office just like he'd done before his diagnosis.

As if reliving it, Grissom simply saw him waiting there, walked inside and shut the door giving the young man all the time he needed to begin.

"I have this for you," Greg said after a few minutes, placing an envelope on the desk and sliding it across.

Grissom opened it and read the contents, brow furrowed.

"This is a letter of resignation."

"Yeah, mine."

Grissom stared at the sheet at a loss.

"I can't accept this."

Greg rested his head in his hands, frantically rubbing his face momentarily.

"You have too. Look at me, I can't do this anymore."

Grissom did look at him and understood in part. Greg looked bad. He'd lost a lot of weight now, his clothes almost hung off of him. He had dark rings around his eyes, obvious lack of sleep and possible dehydration.

"You can go on medical leave. I'll sign the paperwork tonight if you like. Disability insurance will cover your salary."

Greg was already waving him off.

"There's no point."

"There is a point. When you've beaten this you can come right back to the same position. Right back to where you've worked very hard to be."

"I appreciate the concern. I do. But we both know it's not a 'when' but an 'if'. 'If I beat this' and it doesn't look good."

Gil Grissom, brilliant scientist, was not equipped to handle this situation. He had no arguments against logic. He found himself hoping that Catherine or someone would walk through the door and say the right things he so evidently was not.

"What does Dr. Tracey say about this?"

"Dr. Tracey wants to admit me to the hospital tomorrow."

Twice in one night, Grissom was stunned.

"The cancer…"

"Increased as of my last test results, two days ago. They need to up the doses. Monitor me. She wants to do a marrow transplant too, if they find a match in enough time."

"You don't sound like you agree?"

"I've given it some thought."

"And?"

"And I've seen some really horrible deaths working here. Stuff that gave me nightmares a couple of times."

Greg paused to really consider if he wanted to finish this thought. Really speak it out loud to Grissom of all people.

"I don't want to die, but I'm going too," he finally began again. "That's life isn't it? And even worse, no one controls how it happens. It could be when you're a hundred and sleeping or twelve and just riding your bike across the street. But I have a choice, I still have a choice."

"You're not going to the hospital, are you?"

"I don't think so."

"You haven't decided?"

"No."

"So what were you thinking about doing instead?"

"What is there left to do?"

Grissom had an idea where this might be heading. He needed help here. Greg needed help. This was a serious problem, much more then he'd ever first imagined. Dr. Tracey had warned him long ago to look for the danger signs. Grissom just couldn't believe he'd missed them all until now.

"Greg, whatever it is your thinking of doing…"

"I don't know what I'm doing," Greg said somewhere between a laugh and a sob. "I don't want to die like that. I don't want to be hooked up to machines and pumped full of poison. Why is that so hard for anyone to understand?"

"I understand."

Greg looked up at him, eyes swollen and red.

"We can get you help Greg," Grissom continued. "We'll all be here to help you."

"I don't want anyone's help," he spat out at him.

"Fine. That's fine. Let me at least call Dr. Tracey. You can discuss other options with her. Work something out."

Greg shook his head.

"What about your parents?"

Grissom wasn't ready for this. Greg had begun to cry, really cry in front of him.

"I don't want to hurt them."

"I know that. What would they want you to do?"

"Have the treatment," Greg said, still shaking a bit. He felt as if he'd had no control over his voice now. It was as if his mouth was speaking without checking with his brain.

Grissom patted him on the back and waited for him to regain some composure.

"Greg," he asked as calmly as he could "what were you thinking of doing instead?"

For a full minute he was silent.

"I don't know," he said honestly. He hadn't known what he'd been doing for days now. Greg hesitated as if he had more to say. Grissom knew he had, just not how to get it out of him.

"An hour ago I checked out a service weapon."

"Where is it?"

"In my glove compartment."

Grissom nodded, feeling very much to blame. He should have seen this coming. Should have noticed the state he was in, but hadn't.

"I'm glad you told me."

Greg just sunk his head back into his hands and wondered if he'd made the right choice.

**A/N:** And the bad news is I'm going to have to leave it with a cliffhanger! I'm SO sorry but I will not be updating this story again until (at the very earliest) Sunday. I'm going to the Big Easy for the weekend and won't have the time. But, I will promise this – despite this chapter and the previous posted tonight I'm determined to end this damn thing happily. Also, I know this whole twist might seem drastic, but I've been hinting at it as best I could without coming right out and saying Greg was slipping into a serious depression. Hope it wasn't too jolting.


	18. Fallout

**Happy Enough by SLynn**

**Disclaimer:** Any character you recognize, not mine.

**Chapter 18: Fallout**

The news had been startling. The crime lab by and large had been told that Greg was on medical leave, hospitalized at UMC for a more aggressive chemo treatment. Everyone had expressed concern but was told that they couldn't visit immediately. The excuse was valid, that during the first stages of treatment chances of infection were high. The less exposure to outside influences the better. But it wasn't the truth.

Gil Grissom sat down with his team after the staff had been told the basics. He needed them to know the truth, without exception. Greg was beginning treatment, but not yet. That night he'd taken Greg into the hospital, straight from his office, where he'd been placed on a seventy-two hour suicide watch.

The initial reaction had been disbelief and silence. This wasn't the person they knew and Grissom agreed. The man who had sat in his office was not the person he knew and he for one wanted the old Greg back.

He'd discussed it at length with Dr. Tracey at the hospital. Just how could the situation have spun so wildly out of control? She hadn't seemed too surprised. In her opinion Greg had always been holding in too much. She'd suggested therapy and he'd refused. Twice. She even asked several times if he felt better confiding in her, but he hadn't wanted to talk about it.

Ironically, until now she really couldn't do anything more. While he was in the hospital they could start him on anti-depressants and hope that they had a positive effect. But eventually he would be released. Once his stay was over it would be up to him again to see to his own mental as well as physical health.

Dr. Tracey had also wanted to limit his visitors and at first just to family. Grissom wouldn't hear of it. Wouldn't relent until she agreed that he and a select few could visit as well. They could see him, but not until tomorrow. It was a very long night.

The next morning Grissom, Catherine and Nick left to go see him. Dr. Tracey had also expressed a concern that he might feel ganged up on if they all showed up at once, so they decided to go in smaller groups. Warrick had fought hard to go on the first visit, but Sara was almost relieved to hear that she wouldn't be, not certain she could ever make the trip. She felt heavy with guilt.

The arrived just after visiting hours began and Dr. Tracey was there to greet them.

"I'm very reluctantly letting you in," she said sternly to Grissom. "He's had a rough night and I've given him a sedative. Try to keep the conversation away from the current situation. I know that'll be hard to do. He may try and provoke you into a fight, do not let him draw you in. He's been lashing out verbally at some of the staff."

Nick could believe it. Greg had a sharp mind and quick wit, sometimes too quick. He sometimes ran his mouth without thinking, but never to be intentionally mean. Nick could recall times they'd gone out to bars or clubs and it had nearly gotten them both in a lot of trouble. But just because he'd never intended to hurt anyone before didn't mean that he couldn't.

Looking at his two mentors, Nick wondered if Griss had gotten a small taste of that yesterday afternoon. He looked as if he certainly agreed with that assessment. Only Catherine seemed mildly surprised to hear that sort of thing about Greg. She wasn't going to be prepared for this if it got bad.

"Anything else?" Grissom asked.

"No. Mostly he just needs his friends right now. Don't be judgmental; there is no answer to why."

They walked in together but Catherine made the first move to communicate. Greg hadn't even turned towards the sound of the door, was just laying in bed gazing out the window.

"Hey Greg," she said, taking a seat nearest the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"I think they gave me valium," was his somewhat cryptic response.

He hadn't even turned towards her. Nick thought they must have given him something much stronger then that.

No one spoke for nearly five minutes.

"What are you all doing here?" Greg finally asked, as if they'd just walked in.

"We've come to see you," Grissom answered, sitting himself down near the foot of the bed.

"You shouldn't have come," he began again and his voice still sounded oddly detached.

Nick couldn't stand it. He got up and left without a word, looking for Dr. Tracey. This wasn't right. He asked the nurse for directions and headed to her office.

"Can we talk?" he asked after rapping on the door.

"Of course, Mr. Stokes correct?" she said, rising part ways to greet him.

"Nick is fine," he said, motioning her to sit and he took a seat himself.

"Alright Nick, I assume this is about Mr. Sanders."

"Yeah," he said, "Greg. That isn't him. How much of a sedative did you give him? He's barely coherent."

"He was very coherent when I spoke to him last."

"It's time to check again."

She looked at him, really scrutinized his movement before speaking again. Greg had said once that Dr. Tracey reminded him of Griss, and now he knew why.

"Nick, right now Greg is a danger to himself. It is extremely important that we keep a very close eye on him and that he remains as calm as possible. He cannot do that for himself right now and we had to give him something for that."

"So the solution is to just drug him up until his treatment is over?" Nick asked in disbelief.

"No. Definitely not. The solution is to reassess his medication. He is on several powerful drugs that can cause some serious side effects. One of them is depression. It's not usually this profound but Greg has not been dealing with his disease. He's shown grief, anger, confusion, everything but acceptance. Until he accepts that he has cancer and that it can be cured, he's going to have to deal with depression. Unfortunately, the chemotherapy sometimes amplifies these feelings. "

"Still, it's not right to do that to him. He wouldn't want to be so out of it that he can barely form sentences. It's not fair to him."

"That was a last resort. We're taking him off of his current chemotherapy drugs and beginning the new treatment in two days. We've already started him on anti-depressants."

"That doesn't…"

"Please, Nick, what did your friend say that's upset you so much?"

"It's not what he said, it's his whole demeanor. That wasn't him. Even when it was bad before this, he'd still be goofing off and telling jokes."

"Have you noticed a change lately?"

"He's had a few bad days."

Dr. Tracey nodded in agreement.

"But I didn't think…" Nick stopped as it really weighed on him that he should have noticed the change. Greg hadn't been normal since he'd found out about the cancer, but the last week he was a completely different person.

"We often blind ourselves to these things. It's not your fault. It's not Greg's fault. He's very strong willed and very afraid of disappointing the people he cares about. He's exactly the type of patient you usually want, if you can just get them to accept the situation. I'm confident he'll pull through this."

"What happens when the sedative wears off?"

"There really is no telling. I wasn't lying when I said I had no choice, but I think he'll be alright. I understand his mother's flying in and he has his friends."

She'd smiled at him when she'd said that last part and Nick couldn't help but feel optimistic too.

"But let me tell you then same thing I told your boss," she said as she stood up to see him out. "It'll be easier for him to accept this and really begin treatment once the people he cares for do the same."

Nick stood to go, shook her hand and thanked her quietly, glad he'd come. He hustled back to the room to find Catherine and Grissom still inside, apparently having more luck at talking with Greg then before. He still didn't sound much like his old self, but it was a vast improvement.

During this time Warrick had gone to the airport to pick up Maggie Sanders. She was in quite a state and he didn't have any of the answers she needed. He was glad that she apparently already knew about the suicide watch and that he didn't have to be the one to tell her, she looked continuously on the brink of tears.

They drove straight to the hospital and he saw her in to Dr. Tracey's office. Warrick assured her that he'd drop off her suitcase at Greg's apartment and then went to find Grissom and the others. He knew Greg's next visitor was going to be his mother, but he'd wanted to hear how he was.

Cornering Nick as soon as possible he got the details. Afterwards, confused by her absence, Nick asked where Sara was. Warrick wished he hadn't.

"She didn't come."

"What?"

"Said she couldn't and I wasn't going to press it."

Nick rubbed his head in frustration.

"I don't care what happened between them," he finally said in a lowered voice in case Catherine or Grissom might wander by, "she should be here."

"Man, you are talking to the wrong person," Warrick agreed, "but I couldn't make her. She is taking this kind of rough."

Nick didn't care at the moment. Now he found himself hoping that the sedative might last a little longer so Greg might not notice what everyone else certainly would. Who hadn't shown up.


	19. Turning Corners

**Happy Enough by SLynn**

**Disclaimer:** Any character you recognize, not mine.

**Notes and Thanks: **Thanks again for the reviews: A Bloom, Sillie, werewolfe, Sandersgirl, Em, tabs, TVrocks, white rose01 and Lynn. Sorry if the previous caused undue stress, it should be getting better smirk. My weekend was great! If you have the chance, visit New Orleans. It is awesome!

**Chapter 19: Turning Corners **

Maggie had seen and talked to her son, watched as the sedative had worn off and the obvious depression once more filled his eyes. It hadn't been pretty. While remorseful at having caused her grief, he still was despondent. They hadn't talked so much as kept each other company. Mostly there had been silence.

Sara came by a half-hour before visiting hours ended.

When she had arrived Maggie had just gone to make a few phone calls and have a quick dinner. Visiting hours didn't apply as strictly to her being family, but Maggie didn't want to leave him alone for long.

Sara came in as silently as possible and watched him for a minute as he had his back to her once more looking out the window.

"You're not interrupting me," he said with his back still turned.

"I'd have come sooner but I, I just didn't know what I was going to say."

At the sound of Sara's voice he turned his head. He'd thought it was his mom having finally made it back.

"I was also going to bring you something, but they wouldn't let me."

Greg knew who the vague 'they' were. The nursing staff on the ward were strict. They'd been rushing off people all day and peering in at him through the window like he was up to something.

"What were you bringing?" he asked out of curiosity.

"Your walkman and discs."

"They probably thought I'd try to strangle myself with the headset, or drop the whole thing in the sink and try electrocution. Not that double A's would do anything really. It would have to be plugged in."

His tone of voice had affected her similarly to how it had Nick. While Nick had been angry about his lack of inflection, Sara was hurt at how angry he sounded.

"That's not funny," she said seriously as she moved closer to his bed.

"I know," he answered in a near apologetic tone.

Sara nodded and sat down near by.

"What is everyone saying?"

"They're worried Greg."

"Yeah, sure."

"You don't have to believe me."

"I believe you."

They sat in the semi-darkness of the hospital room without much else to say. Sara wasn't sure if she should even be there considering everything that had happened, but staying away was like telling him all over again without words that she didn't care. And that wasn't true.

"Why didn't you come by with everyone else?" he asked. "I was a lot more entertaining then."

"I didn't think you wanted me here."

"But you came now."

Sara nodded.

"So what are you doing without me at the office to run all your errands?"

"It's been tough," Sara said actually smiling.

"I bet it has. You've probably forgotten where the fax machine is, haven't you?"

She conceded and another silence followed. The lightness of the moment was gone.

"This isn't your fault," he said, looking back out the window.

"Greg I shouldn't…"

"No," he stopped her effectively with just his voice. "Nothing you could have done or said would have changed how I feel inside. Not that what we..."

"I know Greg."

"I just don't want you to feel responsible for me. Not for this."

Sara wanted to say that she didn't care what he wanted, she was responsible. She'd shut him off because of her own issues and ignored his completely. It had been a selfish way to act and yet, miraculously, he didn't blame her at all. She didn't deserve that kind of treatment.

"You were right. I could have told Nick and Warrick the truth. They didn't need to know everything, but there wouldn't have been anything wrong with me telling them that I'd stayed over. They'd have understood that. I shouldn't have said what I did."

"It doesn't matter," Greg said brushing it off. He had been hurt, was still, but didn't want her to know. "I know it didn't mean anything."

Sara wanted to contradict him but couldn't because she wasn't certain what he'd meant. Did he know that what she said hadn't meant anything or was he implying that that night hadn't meant anything?

"I should go," she said instead.

As she stood up, Greg continued to stare out the window.

"I do you know," he said as she pulled open the door.

"Do what?"

"Want you here."

She smiled at him.

"I'll come back tomorrow."

He nodded, back still turned, and she left.

The next few days had been trying. Greg had struggled through them but was doing well. Dr. Tracey had seen to it that he participate in group therapy, which he thought would be horribly awkward, but hadn't been too painful. It had helped talking with other patients going through similar ordeals. It was either that or the anti-depressants, or the combination of both that helped him finally turn the corner. It hadn't happened over night, but gradually Greg began to realize that cancer didn't equate to automatic death.

It wasn't going to make the next phase of treatment any less painful, but it had helped him regain his optimism. It was the first time he'd felt that he could do this, beat this and have back his life. In a weeks time Dr. Tracey felt he was ready to begin.

It had been excruciating and had cost Greg a bit of his new attitude, but he'd survived.

The first step had been to insert a catheter below his elbow. It would remain in until he was released in about six weeks. Greg didn't care for needles, mainly because he'd never really liked blood. Blood evidence was one thing, it was sterile and safe, but blood actually coming out of someone, being pulled out of him, tended to make him nauseous. But even that hadn't been bad compared to the side effects.

The treatment was given intravenously every day for about four hours. Two hours into the first treatment and Greg felt worse then he'd ever had before. His mother had done everything she could for him but he was miserable. Greg knew it was the only way and that it wasn't permanent, but it hadn't been easy. He had been sorely tempted to rip the damn thing out of his arm. The four weeks it would take to complete the first cycle suddenly seemed a lot longer.

The effects of the drugs typically wore off around the time that afternoon visits began which was great.

Greg was getting more and more easy with people coming to see him. Archie, Jacqui and his other lab tech friends typically came in the morning time, right after shift. Grissom, Catherine and the other CSI's usually showed up in the evenings. Generally they came in ones and twos, alternating days, but that night they all came. His room had never been so crowded.

"Greg, stop doing that," Catherine chastised for the third time since arriving. His continuously pulling at his catheter was making her tense.

"I can't help it," he said in a near whine that made everyone laugh, "The damn thing itches."

"Greg," Maggie said in an exasperated tone.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly, pulling his hand away in such a manner that everyone laugh again.

"I think you're going to have to move to Vegas," Warrick said turning to Maggie, "I don't think anyone's ever gotten that quick of a response out of Greg."

After awhile Grissom, Catherine and Warrick had to leave. They were on duty that night and had cases to attend too. Maggie left as well, but only after she was convinced Greg would be fine. Nick and Sara were planning on staying until they were told to get out.

"Your arm really is red," Sara said gently turning it over to take a look.

"Probably because he's been scratching at in non-stop," Nick said, trying to keep the smirk off of his face as he noticed that Sara, having already examined Greg's arm, now seemed hesitant to release his hand. It was so naturally done he wasn't sure she realized she was doing it herself.

"It really does hurt," Greg replied also trying hard not to let Sara distract him and focused instead on Nick. "Next time we're at the lab I'll set you up with one of your own. You'll see."

Nick laughed but Sara hadn't. She was looking at his arm again. Hospital lighting was either glaring or dim, and unfortunately now it was the latter. She thought she'd seen welts but couldn't be certain. Sara tried to determine it by running her free hand gently over the red skin.

"Ouch," Greg winced, looking up at her somewhat surprised she was still holding onto him.

"Sorry," she said catching his eye and forgetting the reason she was holding his arm in the first place.

"You two want to be alone?" Nick asked.

Sara put down his arm and threw a look at Nick which dim or not he'd caught its meaning. Greg just wanted to smack him, but settled on quiet embarrassment.

Nick couldn't help but laugh.


	20. Reactions

**Happy Enough by SLynn**

**Disclaimer:** Any character you recognize, not mine.

**Notes:** Just realized my goof. Amy mentions in this chapter where's she from. Originally I had it as Torrance, but I'd meant to put Fremont in the San Francisco area. Torrance in near LA. My bad.

**Chapter 20: Reactions**

Two hours after Nick and Sara left, Greg called the nurse. He couldn't stand the itching. He'd joked about it to ease his own mind, but it was past the point of joking now. He was disappointed when the on call nurse told him exactly what everyone else had said all night. "It's supposed to itch."

Another nurse might have taken some pity on him and at least applied a cortisone cream, but not this one. She'd been there the first night he'd arrived and had been subjected to some of his less then kind words. A little itch wouldn't kill him.

Greg wasn't sure how he'd gotten to sleep that night but had managed. The next morning his entire body felt sore. His arm was still pretty red, but didn't appear swollen so he thought it was probably fine. If anything the itching had only gotten worse, as now it was no longer a surface itch but felt as if the bone itself might need scratching.

Maggie arrived as early as she could. Jeff, Greg's dad, was flying in that afternoon. He hadn't been able to get away sooner. When the whole crisis originated he'd been in Japan and Maggie had insisted he stay. Normally he wouldn't have relented, but he wasn't sure he had wanted to see Greg so run down. He hadn't been sure he could handle it.

The morning nurse was much nicer then the night one. She wanted him to exercise more, at least walk the halls. Greg had balked at the idea until today. At first it was stubbornness that kept him in his room, then it was attire, but now that he had enough sweats and t-shirts from home it sounded like a good idea.

Before he could get going he had a visitor. Amy had come to see him. Greg didn't find it too odd that she came alone, although there was only his mother and Sara that had done it before. She'd apologized for interrupting and said she could come back later if it was inconvenient. Both Maggie and Greg had been warm in their objections and at Maggie's suggestion the two of them took a walk alone so that she could stay behind and write up lesson plans for the substitute teacher assigned to her class. Amy was happy to help.

Stopping at the nurses' station to find out exactly where they could go, they found they actually had a large area to roam. All she'd asked was that given the weather they stay indoors.

"Oh, I got you this," Amy said after a few moments silence. Greg hadn't even realized she'd been carrying anything. "It's a Cal Bears hat. I knew you went there so, surprise."

"Thanks," Greg said putting it on. "My head was getting cold."

"I'm glad you like it."

"Never thought I'd get a Berkley hat from a Stanford girl. I'm glad you've finally realized which is really the better of the two."

"Just because you couldn't get in…"

"No, no, no. I got into Stanford."

Amy looked up at him suspiciously.

"Okay, I could have gotten into Stanford if I'd applied, but I didn't want to go there. And could we not have this conversation around my mother, she's still heartbroken. She'll love you though, that's where she went."

"What about your dad?"

"U of San Fran."

"Nice."

"He thought so. I didn't want to go there either. Berkley was my own mini-rebellion against my parents since I knew they weren't going to let me leave the local area. I didn't even apply anywhere else so if I hadn't gotten in I'd probably be bagging groceries at Save Mart."

"I didn't know you grew up in the bay area. I'm from Fremont."

"No kidding, no wonder you could afford Stanford."

"I got a scholarship thank you very much."

"Sure you did."

Greg smiled at her knowing that despite her frown she hadn't taken any offense. Talking with Amy was easy. They had a lot in common and had worked together fairly closely when she'd first been hired on. After a few more minutes of banter they headed back.

Reluctantly Greg admitted he was tired and sat back down on his bed. The three of them talked for another half hour before Amy also admitted she was tired, having worked last night, and had to go get some rest.

"If you want I could come back tonight," she said casually as she got ready to go.

"Isn't it Friday?" he asked "You're not going out?"

"Okay, no I'm not but thank you for pointing out my obvious singleness. And besides, where would I go? I've lived here for five months and the only places I know of are casinos and strip clubs. Not exactly my taste."

"You should have told me sooner. I could have taken you around."

"Well, you won't be here forever," she said smiling at him.

"No, I won't."

"Good. I'm going to remember this conversation."

Greg nodded, feeling a bit uneasy with his mother in the room, but Amy hadn't been overtly asking him out. Had she?

"I'll see you later," she said as she waved goodbye. "Nice meeting you again Mrs. Sanders."

"You too Amy," Maggie said after her, smiling as she turned to her son.

"It's not like that," he said immediately knowing what was in her head.

"I didn't say anything."

"No, but you have that look. That bridesmaids and tuxedos look that you get and that's not the case. Really she's new here and I'm practically the only person she knows."

Maggie continued to smile but said nothing more.

Later that day Greg had his second chemo treatment. This one was about the same, except the itching in his arm began to burn. He didn't say anything because he'd been told by Dr. Tracey that it was normal to have discomfort. Over the years he knew that doctors said discomfort when they meant excruciating pain, it sounded better that way. The ill feelings the drugs produced in him lingered longer this time round. He was still sweaty and nauseous by the time Amy came back that afternoon.

She'd brought a video, hoping they'd be able to watch it but seeing how bad off he was, didn't bother to bring it up. Maggie had been truly glad to see her because she hadn't wanted to leave Greg like this, but had to meet her husband at the airport.

Amy sat down next to him and tentatively put a hand to his forehead.

"Greg, you're really warm. Maybe I should call the nurse."

He was going to object but his chest and throat seemed to feel tight, almost like an asthma attack. His breathing was become labored, but it was happening so fast he couldn't even speak so he had to nod.

Amy didn't bother with the call button; instead she set off to the nurses' station at a jog. After notifying the nurse, she'd come back as quickly as she could. Greg was sitting up now, gasping for breath. He didn't seem to be having any luck as an audible wheeze could be heard from across the room.

"The doctor is coming," she said, trying to stay calm and coming over to the bed. She didn't know what she could do for him. "Try to slow your breathing."

Amy took his right hand in hers and put her left on his back.

"Slow deep breaths," she said again in a forced calm. "In through your nose, out through your mouth."

Greg was glad she'd been there. He'd started panicking just before as spots had danced in front of his eyes. He wondering briefly how in the hell she knew how to do this, but it didn't last long. The doctor had arrived.

"I'm Dr. Goodman, what seems to be the problem?"

Greg wanted to take the clipboard out of his hands and smack him right on the head. People really asked stupid questions sometimes. The problem should be obvious to a trained physician.

"He's having problems breathing," Amy said in a tone that clearly marked that her opinion of the man matched Greg's own.

"Okay," Dr. Goodman continued, "Second chemo dose was today; does your husband have a history of allergic reactions?"

"He's not…" Amy started and then quickly moved on. There wasn't time for contradictions. "Yes, he's asthmatic."

Dr. Goodman asked her to step aside for a moment as he looked Greg over. At this time a nurse and another doctor had joined them. Greg noticed that the spots had started coming back into his vision with more intensity, but he still couldn't speak. His hearing was becoming muffled too, like they'd stuffed cotton in his ears.

Everything seemed to have sped up. The doctors where moving in and out of his vision silently at a pace that didn't seem possible. As he'd wondered where Amy had gone it dawned on him that he must be lying down because he could see the ceiling now.

Real terror hit him as he knew what was happening. He wasn't just having trouble breathing now. Eyes still open, scared senseless as he looked from doctor to doctor to nurse, trying to pull anything into his lungs without success.

His lungs were screaming now as what felt like hours dragged on. He wanted to yell at the doctors to do something, but couldn't. Finally, the spots that had flared in his vision engulfed it entirely as he blacked out.

Greg had stopped breathing.


	21. Agreement

**Happy Enough by SLynn**

**Disclaimer:** Any character you recognize, not mine.

**Chapter 21: Agreement**

What had felt like hours of struggling for breath had in reality only been about a minute, minute and a half. It was the quick thinking of one of the nurses that got Amy out of the room before she went into shock from the experience. She'd thought he was dead.

Once he was unconscious they had to act fast and put him on a ventilator. It had been close. Greg's throat was so swollen the attending doctor knew that if he didn't get the tube in the first time they'd have to give him a tracheotomy. He'd been lucky.

Grissom and Sara arrived as this was all taking place. Finding Amy, visible shaken, waiting in the reception area wasn't what they'd expected. She didn't have much information for them, but they could hear the commotion of it all just down the hallway. Sara found herself sinking down into a chair, unable to speak. Amy joined her, staring intently at the double doors that led towards Greg's room. Grissom alone remained standing, waiting for an answer.

Dr. Goodman joined them thirty minutes later.

"Mrs. Sanders," he said addressing Amy, earning an appraising look from both Sara and Grissom.

"No," Amy said shaking her head, "I'm not his wife. There wasn't time to tell you."

Dr. Goodman nodded his head.

"Mr. Sanders is going to be fine, but he'll stay in the ICU for the night as a precaution. He's on a ventilator to help him breath, but once the swelling has gone down in his throat it'll be removed and he'll be able to breath again on his own."

"What happened?" Amy asked.

"He's had an allergic reaction to the drug treatment. It's rare, but it has been known to happen. That coupled with an infection from the catheter sent his body into a mild shock. He's lost a lot of weight, his immune system is low, it all played a part. The body can only take so much before it shuts down."

Amy nodded, understanding part. She felt a bit too numb to really comprehend it all. Grissom had caught every word eagerly.

"Can we see him?" Sara asked, finding her voice at last.

"I'm afraid only immediate family can be allowed in right now. Are either of you related?"

"No," Grissom answered. "His parents are on their way right now."

Dr. Goodman thanked them but had to go. He needed to contact Dr. Tracey, Greg's physician, and recheck his ventilator before they moved him to the next floor. Sara, Amy and Grissom didn't have anything else to say.

Greg was awake again the next morning. He couldn't recall exactly what happened and was confused as he struggled a minute with a tube down his throat.

"Glad you're awake," came Dr. Tracey's familiar voice. "Don't try to talk. Give me a minute and we'll take this out."

Greg tried to relax as he was instructed on what he'd need to do to remove the ventilator. It entailed little more then exhaling forcefully, but it stung. He coughed a few times trying to make the feeling pass.

"Better?"

He nodded his approval.

Dr. Tracey explained what had happened. He was stable again, would be continuing on with treatment that day, but on a different medication. He was also now on anti-bodies to ward off further infection from the now removed catheter. She failed to mention to him that because of the anti-bodies he'd be taken off of the anti-depressants. Greg was proving to have a very unusual biological makeup, sensitive almost. So far he hadn't reacted well to any of the medicines they'd tried, and mixing two many was a wrong move.

Jeff and Maggie were in to visit him as soon as they were allowed. His mother was still upset, partially blaming herself for leaving him, but relief was evident in her eyes. His father seemed somber, which Greg found disturbing. Jeff Sanders had never been a somber man; he almost seemed like a stranger.

All other visitors had been held at bay until after his next treatment. He was closely monitored throughout and it seemed to go off without a hitch. Once more that evening, everyone had stopped by his room, but Greg still couldn't speak much so mostly they talked to each other.

Greg hadn't realized it then but during this time he fell asleep. He was exhausted. Dr. Tracey had said that he might be more lethargic on this particular treatment, but he hadn't thought she'd meant it in coma-like terms. He just hadn't been able to keep his eyes open, despite half a dozen people talking to and around him.

When he woke up, it was much darker out and much quieter. And he wasn't alone.

Greg saw her sitting beside his bed, her hand wrapped over his as she stared out the window he'd grown so fond of. Still unable to articulate much, he gently squeezed her fingers into the palm of his hand.

Sara turned and looked at him, briefly wiping her eyes with her free hand. She'd been crying. He'd never seen her like this, so affected by anything. Greg wanted to hold her and tell her it would all be alright, that he would make it alright for her, but he couldn't speak. Even if he could, he wasn't sure if he should. She'd never believe him.

Instead he sat up and motioned her in closer. She was hesitant, not sure what he was planning, but finally she sat down on the bed beside him.

"I told them the damn thing itched," he whispered hoarsely into her ear.

Sara looked at him in disbelief before laughing and crying all at once.

"That's not funny."

Greg laughed too, but it came out more like a bark. After a moment they both settled down, Sara once more composed and Greg glad he'd done something right.

"Don't do that again," she said seriously.

He mouthed the word 'promise' to her and made an 'x' across his heart. She grinned at him, tears once more in her eyes. Sara knew he could have died, almost died, and was having a hard time accepting that.

Not wanting to stop herself, she brought her hand to his face. Greg felt his heart flutter momentarily before he remembered to press down those thoughts. He kept telling himself that she was just worried as a friend because of what had happened. It wasn't anything more then that. Still, he knew that this was the closest they'd been to each other alone or otherwise since that night.

Sara hadn't noticed how close they'd gotten, how physically close they were to each other until she heard the door opening. They'd been inches apart until that moment and now she pulled back nearly jumping to her feet.

Greg's mother was back. She'd asked Sara to sit with him while her and Jeff stepped out, not wanting to leave him alone even sleeping. If she noticed anything odd about either of their demeanors upon her return she hadn't let on.

Sara stayed only long enough to say goodbye. Greg had never been so confused.

The next few days went by in a hurry. The latest treatment seemed to be working fine. Greg decided against fighting off the drowsiness and just slept when the mood hit. He was still doing the therapy thing twice a week, which was going well. Greg managed to keep himself pretty well occupied despite being virtually confined to bed.

After another week his father had to get back to work. Greg was sorry to see him go, they hadn't talked much while he'd been there. They hadn't had much opportunity. Jeff Sanders promised to visit his son again soon and had already scheduled in a trip that would bring him back in three weeks, about the time Greg would know the results of his next bone marrow test.

Maggie Sanders stayed an additional week to see him through the entire four week treatment. She too had work to attend to, although if Greg had asked she'd have quit her job if he needed her. But he hadn't. He had liked having her there, it had been a valuable comfort during some rough times, but he also liked his space. His mother was a bit overprotective and he needed to do this on his own.

Greg had almost been in the hospital for two months before he was released. He knew it was only temporary, but it felt good. Nick picked him up at noon and drove him back to his own apartment. They joked the whole way there and it almost seemed like nothing had ever gone wrong.

Nick had tried to talk him into allowing a few people to be there and meet him at his apartment the day he got out, but Greg had resisted. He just wanted some privacy more then anything. Nick had understood, but said he couldn't promise people wouldn't stop by anyway. Greg knew this was too true to argue, but hoped he'd at least have a few hours to himself.

Nick had stayed long enough to help him unload his things. Greg's apartment, no doubt owing to his mother's stay, was immaculate. She'd cleaned everything five times over at least. Nick had laughed when Greg remarked that it was cleaner then the hospital. They said quick goodbyes and Greg let the quiet sink in around him. It hadn't lasted long.

Amy stopped by. She apologized for doing it, but she wanted to see him. Greg smiled as she blushed at this; she hadn't meant it to come out like that. Again he was always amazed at how easy talking to her could be. He hadn't had the chance since their last encounter, something she was hesitant to bring up. Greg did it for her.

"I never thanked you, did I? You probably saved my life. Where did you learn those breathing techniques, you're not asthmatic are you?"

"No," she said a bit hesitantly, "and you don't have to thank me. I'm just glad… don't thank me."

"Well?" he asked, after she'd stopped short.

"Oh, the breathing. Yeah, well my mom's an OB, I use to go to her classes at night and…"

"You had me doing Lamaze?"

She shrugged her shoulders.

"I can't believe you," he said with a laugh.

"I'm sorry; it was the first thing I thought to do."

"Very reassuring in times of crisis. Good thing I wasn't bleeding, you would have tried to check my cervix."

"You don't have a cervix."

"That's my point."

Amy and Greg enjoyed a good laugh before she decided she should go. Just as she got to the door, before they'd actually said goodbye, it hit him.

"Do you think you could stay a little longer?" he asked. He suddenly didn't want to be alone. The abrupt quiet had unnerved him and Amy had such a nice laugh. He wanted to hear it again.

"Sure," she said, taking off her jacket and heading back to the couch.

"I thought I wanted to be alone, privacy after all that time, but I think I've been alone long enough."

Amy nodded in agreement. She knew exactly how he felt.


	22. Indifference

**Happy Enough by SLynn**

**Disclaimer:** Any character you recognize, not mine.

**Notes:** Thanks for the reviews! I love them and read them all and take them all very much to heart. I've noticed a new trend, concern at where this story is going. First, it wasn't ever my intent to make this any type of relationship story, it just happened that way. My only plan was to write a story about Greg. Second, now that you think about it, Greg and the new lab tech is a bit over done I guess I never noticed that, but that's not where I'm headed with this. Third, unfortunately there is no miracle cure for cancer, I wish there was, so this story will not end with Greg being cured. He's going to get better, treatment is going to help, but honestly cancer treatment takes years. He couldn't possibly go into the hospital one time and be cured. Hopefully I've calmed some fears (maybe not so much for the anti-Greg/Sara shippers) and as always, I hope you like the story.

**Chapter 22: Indifference**

A week after being released from the hospital Greg met with Dr. Tracey again. She felt very strongly that they had finally found the right course of treatment, his bone marrow tests kept coming back with reduced concentrations of cancer, but she was worried about his overall health. The chemotherapy was taking a toll on his body. The original plan had been for Greg to go back into the hospital in another two weeks, but Dr. Tracey didn't think that was wise. She wanted to try outpatient treatment again starting next week.

Greg was excited. He hadn't wanted to go back into the hospital. He wanted to keep his life as normal as he could, really meaning he wanted to go back to work. Dr. Tracey wasn't to certain about that. She knew it would probably be the best thing for his morale but Greg had a stressful job. However, his enthusiasm to regain normalcy was contagious. She'd agreed, but again insisted on a modified schedule with minimum hours. This time she'd left off the addendum of 'no field work'. It was truly a great day.

He was going back that Monday.

During the time before he headed back he'd seen a lot of his friends. Most nights someone would stop by to chat or just watch television with him, sometimes they'd play games or rent a movie. It just depended. Greg had become pretty close friends with Amy during this time. There was nothing too it, nothing beyond friendship in either of their eyes. He'd flirt with her because she was a girl, but it was meaningless. You couldn't really even call it flirting, it was more like teasing. She recuperated in the same easy going fashion and he began to realize she really didn't know anyone else in the area and was probably just lonely. Not everyone saw it that way.

Nick for one was really giving him hell. He never commented on it in front of Amy, he didn't know her well enough to feel comfortable teasing her himself, but Greg knew his opinion. He'd tried explaining that if anything he felt like her older brother, but Nick shrugged him off. Warrick was worse because he just said nothing but occasionally smirked at the two of them. Catherine thought the whole thing was sweet, once more reminding him of his mother, but also kept her mouth shut. Grissom was what he always was, thoroughly detached from the situation. He hadn't even noticed. Sara only showed a steady indifference which didn't seem right.

The night before his first shift back Greg had specifically asked no one to stop by. He knew he needed rest. He also needed to convince his parents that coming back wasn't necessary. He ended up spending half the night on the phone with them doing just that. They'd been hesitant, but after really listening to Greg knew he was right.

After getting as much rest as possible and spending half the day in a kind of nervous agitation, Greg made his way to the crime lab. He got there early and it was a good thing. Sitting in his car Greg was feeling flooded with memories of his last night there. He hadn't thought about it in a long time, hadn't thought about what coming back would be like. He knew that only Grissom and the rest of the team knew about what had really happened, Greg hadn't told anyone else, even Amy, but he still felt paranoid.

He'd sat in his car a good solid half hour before someone opened the door and slid into the passengers' seat.

"I saw you pull up," Grissom said evenly. He didn't have to add that he was concerned. It wasn't like him to say things like that, but Greg knew it was true.

"Yeah," Greg said letting out a sigh. "I'm just trying to build up the suspense."

"What are you worried about?"

"Everything." Greg had answered at first, but knew Grissom wanted more then that. "Mostly that people will avoid me. Mostly that they won't."

"You're pretty much guaranteed one or the other," Grissom said with a hint of a laugh.

"Win-win," Greg said flatly, hands still on the wheel.

"What's the worst that could happen?"

Greg thought it over.

"No one looks me in the eye. They all talk loudly behind my back. I throw up in the staff meeting and then pass out in the field. After that you give my job to Hodges, permanently condemning me to the lab."

"Glad you've thought this through."

"My motto is 'be prepared'."

"Okay, so what's the best thing that could happen?"

Again, Greg gave it a moment's consideration.

"I go in there like nothings happened. We all get along like we use too. I do not throw up or pass out anywhere. And you promote me shift supervisor so that I can fire Hodges."

Grissom laughed.

"I'm not sure all of that's going to happen just yet."

"A man can dream."

"Greg, you're going to be fine."

"I know; I just don't know that I know."

"Come on, let's go." Grissom said, shaking his head at Greg's logic.

Greg got out of the car and went inside with Grissom. It didn't go too badly. He did get the odd look or two, but mostly people were happy to see him. Several people welcomed him back, others just smiled or nodded. A few flat out refused to look his way. It had all been a bit easier to take with his boss at his side.

"See," Grissom said once they'd reached the break room.

"Yeah, that wasn't at all like torture," Greg said, still a bit on edge from any type of attention.

Grissom smiled at him and left for his office. Greg decided to go drop off his things and wait it out till the beginning of shift brief. He had no earthly clue as to what was happening in the lab, having been out of it for so long, but it didn't take long before he felt at home again.

Soon the rest of the team joined him as the shift actually began. Grissom knew he didn't have to welcome Greg back, and knew that Greg didn't really want that type of attention, so he said nothing about his presence. Grissom simply said what he had to say about the new assignments and back briefed the team on what had taken place during the day.

Greg busied himself as best he could. It was hard to get the feel for a case midway through but he wasn't doing too badly. What wasn't making it any easier was Sara. She'd been strangely quiet for the last hour and a half. At first Greg had attributed it to sheer volume of work. They'd both been doing print comparisons since shift started without luck. It was tedious, but not necessarily silent work. He realized she was purposely not speaking after asking her a few tester questions, trying to start any type of conversation and drawing only the obligatory head nods as needed.

"Are you mad at me?" he finally asked, after his fifth and final attempt at levity.

"No," was her crisp response.

"Because you seem kind of…"

"Greg," she cut him off, "we've got a lot of work to do. I've got a lot of work to do. I don't have time for twenty questions. There's nothing wrong. Now, if you could just go down to the lab and try not to take all night, I need those DNA results for this case."

Greg had started to leave, but something about the tone of her voice caused him to suddenly stop and come back.

"What did you mean by that exactly?" he asked in a somewhat amused voice.

"I meant that you should not be standing here."

"No, I got the 'fetching' part of your speech. What I want to know is what did you mean by telling me to 'try' and not take all night'?"

"I think that's obvious."

"Not to me."

Sara stared at him. Stared daggers at him. Nick wasn't the only one who had done some speculating about Greg's involvement with Amy. At first she thought it was alright, good even. In theory Greg interested in someone else was good because then he'd no longer be making puppy eyes at her. However, in this theory she hadn't accounted for exactly how much it might hurt. It was denial of the worst sort.

"Does everyone think that Amy and I are together?" he asked, still sounding amused.

Sara only continued working and raised her eyebrows in response, indicating that it should be obvious that they did.

"Does it bother you?" he asked as he sat back down next to her.

"Of course not," she said, still pouring through the results but not actually seeing them.

Greg was really tempted to press the issue but hadn't. He was also no longer in anyway as amused as he had been when he thought she might be jealous. He'd just said fine and walked away. Sara turned to the door as soon as he'd gone, sorry for what had happened but not willing to change it. She really did want to be happy for him, to see him move on to someone else, but she couldn't do it. Not yet. It was too much to think about while trying to concentrate on the job and it kept coming back. That and the realization that he'd never denied that nothing was going on between him and Amy.

Greg took an extremely long time getting to the lab. Mainly because he'd walked around the building four times before actually going there. He had to clear his head. Sara was making him crazy. He didn't know what she wanted from him, if she wanted anything from him, and had no clue as to how he'd ever figure her out. But she was definitely in his head. Unshakable.

When he did finally reached the lab Amy frowned at him immediately.

"I need Sara's results if they're ready," he said flatly.

"Too late. She's already stopped by and got them herself about ten minutes ago. She asked about you too and didn't look happy."

"That's shocking," Greg said, flopping down onto the stool by the door.

"Is everything okay with you two?" Amy asked cautiously.

"Great. We have the perfect student-teacher relationship."

Again Amy frowned. Greg wasn't normally wry like this.

"It's nothing," he continued, waving her off not wanting to cast any type of suspicion. "We disagree fundamentally on, well, just about everything. It's nothing serious."

"Why don't you ask Grissom to have someone else train you?"

There was no right answer to that question. He'd never even considered it. Greg had been glad when he'd been told Sara would be training him. Was still glad to be working with her.

"No, she's good at her job. Dedicated and patient."

Amy smiled as he said this and he knew his voice must have slipped in to a tone that wasn't quite appropriate for the relationship he was describing, that of a student-teacher.

"Okay, patient might be going too far," he tried to continue as if he'd been joking. Amy wasn't buying it.

"Whatever you say."


	23. Hiding

**Happy Enough by SLynn**

**Disclaimer:** Any character you recognize, not mine.

**Chapter 23: Hiding**

That night Greg fell asleep in the break room. It wasn't what he'd planned on doing but after so much activity he was exhausted. He'd gone into the break room intending on resting for a bit before heading home, the next thing he'd known he was being gently shook on the shoulder.

"Hey," Catherine was saying as he sat up. "Gil asked if you wanted to come on a ride-along."

"What time is it?"

"Just after four."

Greg just nodded, feeling better for having rested.

"You'll be with Warrick and me. Everyone else is already gone. We're leaving in ten minutes."

Greg stood up and stretched, gathered his things and ended up being the first to the SUV.

"Where are we going?" Greg asked the others as they approached the truck.

"Triple homicide in North Vegas," Warrick answered as he got into the passengers seat. Greg climbed in behind Catherine who was doing the driving.

"Sounds drug related. The place is a known crack house." Catherine provided.

Greg stifled a yawn, catching Warrick's eye in the process.

"Man, if you're tired you don't have to come."

"I'm fine," Greg answered through another yawn. "I had to be out for close to four hours, that's more sleep then I get most nights."

Warrick must have approved of how he did actually look because he said no more.

They arrived in under twenty minutes to a less then scenic housing community and immediately ran into Grissom and the first victim. A man, looked to be in his late thirties, shot in the back. It looked as if he'd been running away when he'd been shot.

"Catherine, Warrick, I want you two to take the second db just inside the door. Greg, join up with Sara and Nick. They're working the third db in the living room."

Greg followed behind the two till they got inside and then gingerly made his way into the next room. The whole place was a mess, had very little real furniture and smelled horribly.

Nick and Sara were busy examining the body and hadn't noticed him walk up behind them. He put down his case and stood back to watch. Nick acknowledged him first.

"Check this out."

The third victim was a woman. She looked about twenty, which was being optimistic. She'd also been shot and was lying face down and sprawled out.

"What do you see?" he asked.

"Um, well she's obviously dead."

"Obviously," Nick echoed with a smile. He couldn't believe Greg still got nervous doing this, even with him. He cut him some slack, considering it was his first scene in months, but Greg needed to end his nervous stammers soon.

"I see three bullet wounds," Greg continued, squatting down to join them and sounding a bit more at ease. "These two look like exit wounds, but this one looks like an entry."

"Good," Nick said by way of encouragement. "What does that tell you?"

"That she was probably running away at the time she was shot."

"Close," Sara cut in, "Try running towards."

"Why?"

"The first shot was here, high on the shoulder. That one started the spin. The second was probably the fatal shot, midsection. The third entered in the lower back. Those are the two exit wounds."

"So?" Nick continued to prod.

"Okay, so if she was running towards the attacker she either didn't realize there was a problem or she was trying to attack him herself."

"And that's what we need to know," Nick finished.

The three of them began to comb over the room. After a thorough search which turned up nothing, Nick took what looked like the bedroom while Sara and Greg tried in the kitchen. The kitchen was small and galley style, ending with a breakfast nook and sliding glass door leading out back. The door was closed and intact.

"I thought you'd gone home," she said after they were alone.

"I was going to but I fell asleep."

Sara was now poking through the only garbage can in the place; it was filled to the point of overflowing.

"Need help with that?" Greg asked.

"No, try the cabinets then the fridge."

He nodded and continued looking for what he didn't know.

"Something in here sure stinks," Sara said. She hadn't like the near argument they'd been in earlier and was trying now to get past it.

"Your face is inches from filth," Greg said with a laugh, "What did you expect?"

"True."

Greg smiled to himself, willing to at least feign ease with her. It wasn't easy.

"Do you have a flashlight?" he asked her, noticing something in the back of the top cabinet. It had struck him funny since everything else was barren.

"Catch." she called, tossing it to him. "Helps to keep one in your jacket and one in your kit."

"Got it," Greg said, not really listening. He was about two inches too short to really see inside, so he was stretching as much as possible, straining even on tip toe. Sweeping the light inside, hoping to at least catch the shadow of the object, he thought he'd saw movement.

"I don't suppose I'm allowed to stand on this counter."

"No you are not. I'm not filling out all those workers comp forms because you fell and busted your head looking for a snack."

"That's funny," Greg said still only half paying attention as he moved backwards instead to try and see up into the cabinet. "You know I have cat-like reflexes."

Sara laughed still looking for something of importance in the trash.

"Greg," she said as she noticed he was still staring up transfixed. "Exactly what is it you're looking for up there?"

"Something moved," he said as he moved closer to the cabinet again.

"It's probably a rat."

Greg looked at her clearly horror stricken, stepping back several paces.

"What did you expect?" she shot back.

Greg made no reply, just shut the cabinet door with the tail end of the flashlight.

"I'm going to check the pantry."

"Okay," Sara said giving up on the trash contents and checking the sink instead for signs of blood or drug use, "but it'll probably have rats too."

Greg suppressed a shudder and moved round the refrigerator to where the pantry was. Flashlight ready, he put his hand on the door and then froze. He'd definitely heard a faint rustling noise coming from inside.

Not willing to admit that rats really did give him the heebie-jeebies, he took in a deep breath and opened the door wide. It was larger then the average pantry with a slanted roof indicating it was directly under the staircase they'd seen in the foyer. Greg scanned the top shelves to his left briefly but there was nothing of interest. Mostly old boxes, some obviously chewed on by vermin, filled the space. He felt absolutely no apprehension walking a few steps inside and he'd wanted to check around those boxes. It would be a good place to drop something out of sight. Besides, the police had cleared the place so it was just him and the rats.

Inside, he had to crouch. He did only a quick sweep; there was no blood or sign of disturbance. Turning to go, he heard that same rustling noise this time right behind him. Greg swung back round but instead of looking at eye level, he looked to the floor. That's when he realized he wasn't alone and it was something much bigger then a rat in there with him.

He took a small step backwards.

"Greg," Sara was now at the door way.

He held up a hand for silence, a signal she immediately caught as she moved her right hand up to her sidearm.

Now the boxes were definitely rustling. Greg's heart was racing. He didn't even know how he'd managed to stay standing at this point, must have been adrenaline. Sara had taken a side step into the enclosure to get a better look, but as she did Greg got a glimpse of exactly what they were up against.

He shook his head at her and motioned her back. Sara didn't know what he was doing but didn't stop him. She just stood transfixed, gun now drawn as Greg squatted down near the boxes and actually began moving them.

She'd tried saying his name but it just didn't come out.

"It's okay," he was saying now but he seemed to be addressing the boxes and not her. He wasn't facing her, wasn't even looking Sara's way. "It's okay now, you can come out."

Sara saw him extend his hand slowly and breathed a sigh of relief as a tiny hand emerged taking hold.

"What's your name sweetheart?" he asked to an extremely frightened little girl, probably no older then three, who had emerged from behind the junk. She didn't answer, just ran into his arms with tears down her face.

Sara turned away quickly, lost somewhere between relief and anger. She had only one thought. 'He could have been killed.'


	24. Comfort

**Happy Enough by SLynn**

**Disclaimer:** Any character you recognize, not mine.

**Notes**: As always – thank you so much for your time and your reviews. This in now officially the longest story I've written and the most reviews I've ever received! As I've put in the summary, if you are having any type of problem viewing this story and would like chapters mailed to you, please contact me through my email address on my profile.

**Chapter 24: Comfort**

Greg's first night back lasted a lot longer then he'd thought it would. They'd called an ambulance for the girl and he'd seen her safely off before he got a ride back to the lab with Warrick and Catherine. The trip had been silent; the three of them were too exhausted to speak.

He only wanted to stay long enough to grab his things and go. Nothing sounded better then sleeping in his own bed, but it would have to wait.

"We need to talk," Sara said.

"Can we do this tonight," Greg said, "I really just need…"

"No," she cut in, "Now. We need to talk now."

Sara motioned him into the AV room and shut the door behind them. He hadn't known what to expect, he assumed it was a debrief.

"Okay," he said after the stood facing each other for a few seconds in silence.

"What in the hell were you thinking?" she suddenly blurted out loud and angry.

Greg just stood mute.

"I never said go inside. I told you to look around and that was it. You could have been killed Greg. It was stupid and irresponsible."

"Wait a minute," he said finally finding his bearings. "I told you where I was going. If you had any problems with it you should have said something then."

"You know protocol. I'm responsible for you in the field. Not just for your training, for your safety. You had no fire arm, no training what so ever…"

"Damn it Sara, I didn't know there was anyone inside. The police cleared the building…"

"Just because they say its clear doesn't mean anything. You still have to be careful. You have to keep your eyes and your ears open. Don't shake your head at me like it can't happen."

"That's not…"

"Catherine's been attacked on scene before and she has more experience the two of us combined. People have been killed. CSI's doing this job."

"You don't think I know that, I know the risks involved. I knew Holly, Sara. I worked here with her. I may not have been out there 'doing the job' but I'm not ignorant."

"You shouldn't be in the field," she said flatly, the anger draining from her voice.

"What?" he exclaimed. "Is that what this is really about?"

"Yes. It's about you not knowing enough to be out in the field."

"That's bullshit. I've worked my ass off to get here and you know it. You practically told me yourself that it's where I should be."

"Did you even stop and listen first before you went through that door? Did you even think that maybe there was something back there other then evidence?"

Greg flushed as he remembered and then looked away. He had heard a noise; a rustling he'd thought had been rats. Silence filled the room.

"You're right," he said setting his jaw and not looking at her. "I did hear something and I went in anyway."

Sara said nothing to his admission.

"So what, do you file a report now? Put me on probation, how does this work?"

"Greg," she said trying to lighten her tone.

"No, you're right. That was stupid and irresponsible and I probably shouldn't be out in the field. I shouldn't even be in this job."

"I didn't mean that."

"You've never said anything you didn't mean."

Sara had never been more uncomfortable then she was now. Greg practically radiated anger, but she couldn't tell if it was directed at her or inward.

"Can I go now?" he finally asked tersely.

Sara nodded and he was out the door in under a second.

Greg called in that night too tired for work. He'd spent the majority of his morning fuming over what had happened. Alternating between being angry with himself and with Sara.

He'd finally gotten to sleep around two in the afternoon. It had been a fitful slumber, filled with images of all the other things that could have been behind that door, each scenario worse then the next. Greg was woken just before seven by the chimes of his doorbell.

Clumsily making his way to the front door, too sleepy to take a look out the peephole, he asked who was there without opening up. He'd known of course who it would be, Sara. They seemed to have fallen into a rapid cycle of love and hate, friend and foe, yin and yang. They'd fought; it was time to make amends. Greg didn't feel up to it.

"Come back later," he said without bothering to open the door before turning to go.

"Greg," she yelled back, pounding for effect, "Open up."

Reluctantly he turned round and let her in.

"So you've either thought up a few new ways to insult me or you've come to say you're sorry. Either way, I don't want to hear it. Just send me an email or voice mail if you prefer. I'm going to get some more sleep."

"No, we need to talk."

"Sara," Greg said exasperated now, "no we don't. We've talked plenty and it hasn't done us any good. I'm going back to bed. Stick around if you like, leftovers are in the fridge."

Greg continued on to his room, Sara close at his heels.

"I wasn't being fair to you this morning."

"Okay, so it is time for apologies. I'm sorry, you're sorry. Please let me sleep."

"Stop that. Stop this whole 'I'm above being angry' crap. I know you are and condescending doesn't suit you."

Greg sat down at the edge of his bed.

"Okay, so I'm listening."

"Good," Sara continued. "I was as much to blame for what happened this morning as you were. I'm more to blame."

"No," Greg started to contradict her.

"Yes, you told me where you were going and I should have gone with you."

"Alright," he said evenly.

"That's it?"

"What else am I supposed to say here?"

"Greg, I don't think you're incompetent. I really don't. You did an amazing job in the lab and given time you're going to do an amazing job in the field. This morning I went off, I admit it, but it wasn't because I thought you didn't belong out there. It wasn't because of anything you've done."

"You certainly had a different opinion earlier."

"I was scared okay."

"So was I, but its fine now. Nothing happened."

"Greg that's not the point," Sara said, her eyes wet with unshed tears, "I don't think I could have moved if I'd had to, not then. Not when it counted. If it hadn't been that little girl, if it had been our suspect, we'd both be dead. I was too petrified to move."

"Sara, come on," Greg said standing again, not sure what he should be doing for her, his voice having lost all of its previous coldness. Sara was nearly shaking and he hated seeing her like this. "You're being too hard on yourself."

"I had my gun out. I thought I'd be ready, but when you waved me off my stomach went cold. I thought you might be just trying to protect me. I just kept thinking…"

Greg rested his hands on her forearms, trying to do something for her without invading her personal space. Within seconds she fell into his arms and he was holding her tightly whispering words of comfort.

After she'd calmed down, Greg let his hands rest on her face so he could look into her eyes.

"You alright?"

She nodded.

"I never took you for a crier," he said with mock seriousness.

"Normally I'm not. I think you were right, there's something about our personalities that draw out odd confession at inappropriate times."

Greg nodded with a smile and then kissed her forehead; lingering a bit longer then he'd planned.

When he looked back into her eyes, they'd changed. He'd seen her look like that before. Once before.

"Sara," he said pulling away from her before she could act. "We can't."

"I'm not asking for anything more…"

"Yeah, I know that," Greg cut in, stepping further back, nearly retreating. "That's why we can't."

She looked down, feeling what? Ashamed. Ashamed but only worse. Much worse.

"This isn't how we should be trying to make ourselves feel better. That isn't what this should be about. God knows I'm lonely, okay. I know it. And you're here, and you're beautiful and when you look at me like you were just now, it makes me a little crazy. But I can't do this. I can't because I know tomorrow it won't matter. Tomorrow we'll wake up like strangers, worse then strangers. We'll wake up like friends and I can't do that. I can't pretend that I feel nothing."

Sara wanted to leave. Wanted to run for the door but felt bolted to the spot. She didn't want to hear any of this. Didn't want to think she'd been hurting him as badly as she so obviously must have been.

"We can be friends. I will always be your friend, but this can't happen. Not anymore."

"Okay," she said quietly.

Greg nodded feeling relieved and sick both at once.

"I didn't mean for any of this…"

"Neither did I," he echoed.


	25. The Unexpected

**Happy Enough by SLynn**

**Disclaimer:** Any character you recognize, not mine.

**Chapter 25: The Unexpected**

The next day Grissom called Greg in early. He had things to talk to him about before shift began. Lots of things.

He got there half an hour before shift, as requested, looking rested but not at ease. Greg hadn't talked to Sara since the other night and he wasn't sure what he was going to do once he had to face her again. Assuming of course he still had a job. Grissom didn't look happy.

"You rang?" he asked, trying for a little jocularity. It hadn't worked.

"Shut the door behind you."

"Famous last words," Greg muttered under his breath before sitting down.

"I wanted to talk to you about what happened on scene the other day."

"I messed up."

"Yes, I know that."

"I shouldn't have gone into any room without supervision. I'm not fully trained. It was my mistake and I won't do it again."

"I know you won't Greg. Everyone makes a mistake in the field, you just need to really stop and think before you act. You're not to blame however."

"Sara isn't either," Greg added quickly. "It's not like she'd never told me that before. She had. Once I saw that it was bigger then a closet I should have stepped back and waited. This isn't her fault; you can't blame her for it."

"I know that too," Grissom said mildly, an interesting light behind his eyes. "It's my fault. I shouldn't have insisted you go into the field so soon. You were out of practice and ultimately I'm the boss and I'm to blame."

Greg shook his head. Why wouldn't anyone just let him take the rap for this?

"Grissom, listen. I screwed up, please…"

"That's the end of it Greg," Grissom continued as if he hadn't even spoken. "But there is something else we need to talk about."

Greg was confused. What else could there be?

"Sara came to see me this morning. She feels that she can no longer train you objectively."

Greg didn't know what to say to that. Didn't know what Grissom had interpreted that to mean. He must have heard the rumors before; this was just going to confirm them in most people's eyes despite it being the exact opposite of true.

"It's normal for two people working closely…"

"There's nothing happening between us," Greg cut in blushing deeply. Rumors about Sara and him weren't the only ones ever floated in the lab. This had to be the worst situation he could imagine himself into, the absolute worse.

"No one said there was," was the response, it sounded curt.

"Good," Greg said seriously.

"This isn't an inquisition Greg," Grissom replied, "all I meant was that it's understandable that the two of you have become friends. With everything that has gone on lately, she's feels that she can't effectively oversee your work."

"Okay, so what happens to me?"

"Warrick is going to step in and take over. You'll be shadowing him starting tonight."

"That everything?" he asked.

"No," Grissom said and Greg felt his stomach knot. "I don't want you working as late as you did on Monday. But if you do, don't bother with the break room. Just let me know and I'll clear out some space for you in here."

"Thanks," Greg answered before he got up and left.

He found Nick in the break room reading over tox screens from the latest victims.

"Hey Greg, we missed you last night. Screaming with Sara really takes it out of you, huh?"

"Oh man, did the whole building hear us yelling?"

"You're kidding, right?" Nick said looking shocked. "It wasn't like either of you were keeping your voices down. Don't worry though, I saw her in with Griss earlier. He probably set her straight; she shouldn't have taken it out on you like that man, it was an honest mistake."

Greg fought down his mild annoyance with Nick. He knew Nick was just being a loyal friend, but he didn't have the whole story.

"Well, they did talk," Greg said plopping onto the couch. "And she definitely will not be taking it out on me again."

"Told you."

"No," Greg said, shaking his head. "She's not training me anymore."

"What?" Nick asked, putting aside his report. "Grissom fired her?"

"No. She fired herself."

"That doesn't sound like Sara."

"Yeah well, I wouldn't be the best judge," Greg said standing up to get some coffee. "I'll never understand her."

Nick let the comment go without remark.

"So, who's going to make you run errands and fetch donuts?" Nick said taking a stab at lifting Greg's spirits. He seemed really down about this.

"Warrick. Grissom just told me."

"Well, I won't pretend I'm surprised. He probably thought that if he paired you with me we'd spend all of our time cracking jokes at other peoples expenses."

"Which would be true."

"Oh, no doubt."

"That's probably why he paired you off with Sara in the first place, figured there wasn't any chance…"

Nick stopped mid-sentence at the look Greg gave him. For a moment Greg had looked really and truly pissed off.

"Yeah, that would never happen," Greg said trying to brush it off. Nick wasn't buying it.

"I was joking."

"I know it."

"Okay, because if there was something you wanted to talk about…"

"I'm fine," Greg said putting down his cup. "I'm going to go call Brass about that girl. See how she is."

Nick said nothing more, just watched him go. It hadn't been intentional, but he'd just kicked his friend while he was down.

Greg couldn't reach Brass or anyone in his department who could give him any information about what had become of that little girl. He was sorry to hear it. He really had wanted to know and he really had wanted to stay out of the way until shift started. He didn't feel like talking right now, not to anyone.

Reluctantly he made his way back, sneaking into the room just as Grissom began his talk. Sara and Catherine both had the night off. Relief flooded over him. Greg didn't know how he was going to react to seeing her again. Not just yet.

Warrick turned out to be as good of a teacher as Sara. Not that it mattered to him at the moment, he was just glad he hadn't asked him questions. Warrick didn't seem interested as to why Greg was suddenly his protégée; he just wanted him to learn.

The night was slow and Greg quit early, just after midnight.

Back at his house, he ran through his phone messages and checked his email. He had a doctor's appointment in the morning and set his alarm to wake him early. Dr. Tracey wanted to go over his new regiment with him. He'd be getting his prescriptions tomorrow but wouldn't be started them until next week. Greg ran a hand over his head in mild annoyance. He'd just started growing some hair back, but the new meds were sure to take care of that for him. On the bright side, he now had quite a unique hat collection.

Not ten minutes after he'd finally put his head on his pillow the door bell rang.

Greg considered not getting it. Just staying in bed, pretending to sleep, but after three rings he couldn't do it.

"Hold on," he hollered as he fumbled his way to the door in the dark. He checked the peephole and was surprised to see who was there.

"Amy, what's wrong?"

She looked upset. Really upset, like she'd been crying.

"I'm sorry to come over so late, I just didn't know where else…I don't have anyone else to…"

"No," Greg cut in, voicing honest concern. "It's not late. Come in."

"Thanks," Amy mumbled, but stopped when she noticed all the lights were off. In his haste to get to the door he hadn't bothered turning any on. "Oh Greg, you were sleeping. I'm so stupid. I shouldn't have come."

Greg stopped her from trying to leave, flipped on the living room lights and sat her on the couch next to him.

"What happened?" he asked.

"It's so stupid."

"It can't be if you're this upset."

"Yes, it can," she said seriously.

Greg just continued to gently prod her until she finally talked.

"Okay, so I was at work and I overheard Hodges and some of the other techs talking about me."

"What did he say?" Greg asked.

"It doesn't matter really; it was more that they were talking about me when I wasn't there. I mean, I know I wasn't supposed to be there tonight, but I came in to re-check some figures. It's like punishment for being nosy."

Greg looked at her and knew there had to be more to it then that.

"He's just so awful," Amy said, avoiding looking at Greg and instead focusing on her hands. "I wanted to go in there and slap him."

"It wasn't just about you was it?"

Amy shook her head 'no'.

"Is he…" Greg didn't know how to even phrase this.

"He's saying things about the two of us," Amy supplied. "And here I am, no wonder people talk."

Greg swore loudly and stood up. Amy was startled.

"He's not getting away with this anymore," Greg said as he headed back to his room for his things.

"Greg, no." Amy said, following him as far as the doorway. "I wasn't trying to get you to do anything about it. I just needed to vent. I'm okay. It wasn't a big deal."

"Amy, I'm sick to death of that asshole making up crap about me and about people I care for. He just takes his own insecurities out on everyone around him and it isn't fair. I'm going down there and I'm going to talk to him and then I'm talking to Grissom."

"I don't think…"

"I'm not going to do anything stupid. Believe me, I've already filled that quota for the week."


	26. Confrontation

**Happy Enough by SLynn**

**Disclaimer:** Any character you recognize, not mine.

**Notes:** Thanks again to all of the reviewers! white rose01, BabyAlyx96, mary, A Bloom, cupotrevor, Sillie, Sandersgirl, tabs, Random Talker, Pip3, and Em.

tabs – yeah, I'm in dire need of a beta. Any volunteers?

Pip3 – I'd never noticed that, but I did notice for someone we all see to like, we certainly do inflict a lot of pain. I'm already plotting my next story and I'm determined to keep the Greg torture down to a minimum.

Em – happy birthday! Hopefully you can read this.

I'm kind of surprised how well chapter 23 went over. I liked it myself, but had originally written it much much worse, outcome wise. This chapter and the last were very difficult to write. I think the story is winding down, and that's why the updates are becoming so spaced out. Hopefully I'll have another chapter soon, just have a few things to decide. Hope you enjoy it!

**Chapter 26: Confrontation**

Greg was still fuming by the time they'd reached the lab. Amy had no luck trying to talk him out of it and she had tried. He knew he was overreacting. Knew there were easier ways of handling this, but it had just gotten to be too much for him to take. He'd reached his breaking point.

Greg went straight to Hodges lab without stopping. Amy veered off, headed for the break room, looking for anyone who might be able to reason with him.

"Sanders, aren't you suppose to be convalescing?" Hodges asked as he'd come in.

"You and me," Greg said not wanting to start another yelling match inside so soon after his last. "Outside."

"What is this, the OK corral?" Hodges asked in disbelief. He knew Greg was weird, but now he sounded insane.

"No. Just two co-workers clearing up some differences."

"How strong is that medication that they're giving you?"

Greg, hands clutched inside his jacket, barely contained himself. It took every bit of self restraint not to jump right across the counter and bang Hodges' head into it.

"Let's go," Greg said evenly. "I just want to talk."

"I've got work to do."

"Fine. We'll talk here."

Hodges looked up at him expectantly. Now that he had his attention, Greg wasn't sure what he'd been planning on saying.

"Well?" Hodges prodded.

"I'm sick of you talking about me and about my friends the way you do."

"Is that what this is about?"

"Shut up and let me finish," Greg said sounding strained. "I don't know why I'm your special little target for this crap, but don't go pulling my friends into it. You can say whatever you want about me, knock yourself out, but if you keep dragging Amy or Sara into this…"

"What's going on guys?" Nick asked from the doorway. Greg didn't have to turn around to know Amy wasn't far behind.

"Sanders' doesn't seem to like me talking about him and his little girlfriends."

Greg hadn't realized he'd moved, but must have because Nick's hand was on his shoulder pulling him back. Hodges actually looked a bit disturbed by the sudden change. He wasn't use to Greg standing up for himself, let alone lunging at him.

"Come on Greg," Nick said, gently pulling on his arm.

"I mean it," Greg said, refusing to move, staring right at Hodges.

Nick pulled a bit harder on his shoulder and he finally turned and left. Amy followed them down the hall, up towards the roof.

"What the hell?" Nick asked as they got outside.

"What?"

"You know what; you're going to get fired for that kind of crap. You can't go making threats."

"I didn't make a threat."

"Only because I stopped you."

"Yeah," Greg said, turning to him "why'd you do that?"

"I know it's been a bad week for you, but what happened?"

Greg kind of half pointed to Amy before sitting down. She caught Nick up on the basics, once more skipping the exact details of what had been said. Greg's head was killing him and he knew that he wasn't going to make his doctors appointment now. He was just exhausted.

"We all know the guy's an asshole," Nick said turning to Greg as soon as Amy had finished. "There's never been any doubt. You should have just slipped some milk of magnesia into his coffee like last time."

"That was fun, but it's not the point."

Nick and Amy stood by, waiting for Greg to get to the point.

"I'm tired of him feeding people lies about my life, alright?"

"No one believes him," Nick responded and immediately knew he'd said the wrong thing.

"No one?" Greg asked getting back to his feet. "You believed him, right? About Sara and me. Thought that was funny. And what about Amy? I can't have friends outside of the hospital without there being something going on."

"Greg," Amy tried reasoning. "I'm sure Nick didn't mean it like that."

"I don't believe what he says," Nick said by way of defense. "And I'm sorry about that, all of it. I didn't know it was causing problems. I was only joking."

"It's not funny. My life is not funny. It's a goddamn Greek tragedy."

"I'm sorry," Nick repeated. He hadn't seen Greg this upset before and he clearly wasn't done. Amy looked from one to the next clearly worried. Greg looked like he might throw a punch at him and Nick looked like he might just let him.

"Okay," she said gingerly placing herself between the two of them. "Let's all take some deep breaths…"

"I'm not doing Lamaze again," Greg said, still looking tense but not as much.

"This is my fault," Amy continued. "I shouldn't have told you."

Even as she tried to do away his anger, she couldn't help the fresh tears that came to her eyes. Amy quickly turned her back and walked a few steps away. Greg had started to walk to her and comfort her but Nick beat him to it.

"No, I'm fine," she said gently shrugging him off. "It's just you stupid men and your stupid testosterone."

Greg hadn't thought he could at the moment but he laughed. Amy, not bigger then five foot four, actually stomping her foot in anger was anything put frightening. Nick must have just barely been holding his own laughter in, because as soon as heard Greg, he joined him.

Greg and Nick hadn't parted on the best of terms that night, but they'd at least been talking. Amy drove Greg home but didn't bother coming up. He was beat and she knew it. He needed rest and probably just wanted to be alone.

As he'd expected, Greg missed his morning appointment. He rescheduled with Dr. Tracey for the next day and spent most of the afternoon expecting his second call from Grissom telling him they'd need a talk. It didn't happen. Hodges must have kept quiet about their talk.

Heading in later then usual, Greg wasn't at the lab until nearly nine that night. Amy and Nick were both off so at least he didn't have that awkwardness to contend with, but Sara was on duty.

He'd avoided her pretty well for the first two hours, but she finally caught up with him. Greg had been review surveillance tapes from a convenience store robbery turned homicide. The store had three cameras and three sets of tapes. The problem was that they'd each been rewound prior to being sent over for review. They knew the exact date and approximate time of the crime, but the tapes themselves were only time logged, not date stamped.

It made for one incredibly boring job. So much so that Greg drifted off mid-tape and only realized this when he heard the door open behind him.

Mumbling under his breath and pausing the fast forward button, Greg turned round to find Sara.

"Sorry," she said "I didn't make you lose your concentration, did I?"

"It's doubtful," Greg said, stretching his arms, "I fell asleep sometime around the third slurppy spill."

"I can see how this would be riveting."

"It probably could be if there was sound."

Sara sat down beside him.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you first, about me going to Griss. I was going to, but I didn't want another fight."

"I understand," Greg said despite feeling the opposite.

"Just given everything happening between us lately…"

"Sara, you don't have to explain. I'm not mad, you're right. It's not a good idea for you to be training me, not right now. We should probably just give each other some space and it'll all be fine. It'll blow over soon enough and we can get back to normal."

Greg had restarted the VHS recorder, playing the tape again, just to have something to look at other then her. Sara looked at him intently for a few seconds.

"Is that how you really feel?"

"I don't know," Greg relented. "It's what I want to feel, so maybe yes. I just want things like they were. We were friends, I wasn't so angry with everyone all the time. I could hold down a meal."

Sara chuckled a bit as he said this.

"I'm serious," he continued, sounding anything but. "I hardly know myself right now. Everything's changing and I don't want it too. Can't stop it."

"I'm worried about you," Sara said taking one of his hands into hers absentmindedly. "We're all worried about you."

"I haven't exactly been stable, I know. But I'm not going to do anything like before; I don't feel like that anymore. Honest"

"Good," she said, squeezing his hand slightly.

"That's probably not a good idea," he said looking down at their hands. "You're going to make me yearn and I doubt tonight I'd have the same sort of resolve I did before."

He'd said it with a smile but really meant it. Sara being so close, so very close, and holding his hand wouldn't have normally been a bad thing. Tonight it felt like torture. Greg knew he couldn't have her; that no matter how it appeared she couldn't return his feelings in the same fashion. So he'd made up his mind to tell her no for as long as he could. Just push her away gently. Given his history, he was surprised he'd made it this far without completely becoming her love slave.

"Sorry," she said with a blush, letting go of his hand and moving a bit away. "I should go anyway. I have things to do and you have tapes to watch."

"All night," he said somewhat wearily.

"I just wanted to let you know that just because we're not working together anymore doesn't mean I don't care about what happens to you. I do Greg."

She didn't want any type of response from him, just left. Greg stared after her for a few minutes. Yep, love slave.


	27. Issues

**Happy Enough by SLynn**

**Disclaimer:** Any character you recognize, not mine.

**Chapter 27: Issues**

Dr. Tracey hadn't been too happy with him. He knew she wouldn't be, especially after he cancelled his appointment the day before. That and he felt horrible. Greg wasn't even on medication right now, not until next week, but he felt horrible. And if he looked like he felt, it had to be bad. Maybe that was why she'd asked so many questions.

Greg couldn't really tell her everything; most of it was personal and had nothing to do with his treatment. He hadn't been sleeping well but he had begun eating better which she'd been glad to hear. Greg hadn't been able to touch anything from a drive thru since this whole mess began, grease made him sicker then usual, so he'd been forced to learn to cook for himself. But these last weeks, while off the meds, he'd been holding done his food better in general and had actually put on a little of the weight he'd lost.

Her main concern wasn't his looks however. Dr. Tracey knew what his job was and that she'd never convince him to take it easier then he already was. Her real concern was his attitude. She thought that group therapy was no longer enough. That maybe it was time for him to see a professional that could help him specifically and not just about the cancer. Dr. Tracey also wanted him back on anti-depressants immediately, but deferred the final say on it to the psychiatrist. The whole thing made Greg pretty angry, but he'd agreed to it. She'd even set up his first session.

That night he'd called in to work and let them know he was staying home. It was the most normal he'd felt. All he did was stay inside, played some video games, read a little, slept and ate. He'd refused to think about anything else. Anything mostly being that tomorrow morning he'd being having a total stranger listen to him whine about his life for an hour. Basically he was paying someone to be his friend.

His appointment was for nine o'clock and he arrived about ten minutes early. The waiting room was thankfully empty and fairly stark. It reminded him of the lab. Nothing was there without a purpose. Even him.

The door opened and a middle aged man stepped out, shook hands once with the woman accompanying him and turned without another word.

"Greg Sanders?" she asked looking his way, smiling in a genuine way.

"Yes," he answered getting to his feet and walking over to her.

She extended a hand in greeting and he shook it politely. Greg was a bit surprised by her. He'd expected someone much older, someone like Dr. Tracey who had to be close to sixty. Not that he'd ever ask. This woman was closer to his age, older, but not much. Probably early to mid-thirties. She was pretty with long dark hair neatly pinned up. She had deep brown eyes and in heels was his almost exactly his height. He wasn't sure if any of that would make this easier or harder.

"I'm Dr. Sanchez," she greeted as she showed him inside.

The room was nice, but not what he'd expected. It was actually cozy. He'd imagined modern, sleek furniture, but there was none. It was all done in warm tones, probably to help calm nerves. There was a simple oak desk on one side, rows of bookcases, and on the other side of the room were a few chairs and a table.

"I thought there'd be a couch," he said absentmindedly.

Dr. Sanchez laughed.

"Common misconception," she said as she took a seat and motioned him to a nearby chair.

"Do you mind?" she asked indicating a tape recorder.

"Do you usually record your sessions?" he asked, feeling somewhat nervous at the idea.

"Yes, but I won't if it makes you uneasy. I use it to avoid taking notes. Most people have an easier time with the recorder then with me scribbling as they talk. They usually forget it's on by the end of the first hour."

Greg thought he could understand that, but still didn't feel right.

"It's just, I feel like I should have a lawyer present or something," he said trying to make it sound like a joke.

"Considering your line of work, I'm not surprised."

"Dr. Tracey filled you in already?"

"We talked yesterday."

Greg nodded as Dr. Sanchez took out a pad and pen leaving the recorder off.

"Did she tell you I was a basket case?" he asked, again trying for lighter tone but not quite achieving it.

"No. She thinks you're exceptionally bright, just troubled."

Greg said nothing, just flushed slightly.

"Do you usually have a hard time excepting praise?"

"No, I guess not. I don't hear it a lot. Especially not lately."

"What do you hear lately?"

"That I'm sick and that I need help."

"That can't be easy."

"No, it's not but I've gotten use to it."

Not a complete lie, but nearly. Dr. Sanchez wrote something down on her pad.

"So, why have you come here today?"

"That's obvious," Greg answered.

"Nothings obvious."

"Okay," he continued "I'm here because Dr. Tracey told be to be here."

"Do you always do everything you're told?"

"No," Greg said starting to get defensive.

"Then why come?"

"Because I like my job."

"You don't work for Dr. Tracey. She's your physician."

"I know that, but I figured if I didn't show then she'd tell my boss."

"And that bothers you?"

"Wouldn't it bother you?" Greg fired back, now a little more then defensive.

"We're not here to talk about me."

Greg let it sink in for a minute.

"Yes, it does. It bothers me a lot."

"Why would that bother you? Do you think he wouldn't care? That he might think less of you?"

"How do I answer that? Grissom might not care, I don't know. He's not easy to understand. I guess it bothers me because he's my boss. He ultimately has a say over how I get to do my job, if I get to do my job, so come on."

"Come on what?"

"You're really going to make me say it?" he asked in disbelief.

"You don't have to say anything you don't want to."

Greg took in a deep breath.

"Okay," he continued. "So he's my boss. How does that look? I'm in therapy, not group support; this isn't about cancer. You're a real psychiatrist who's probably itching to put me on some heavy sedatives or something. I've had a hard enough time convincing him to give me the job, that I can be serious and now it's like I can't even keep my life together. Who's going to trust me to run a scene? How is he going to trust me to anything after this?"

Again she wrote on her pad, and Greg was wishing now he'd opted for the recorder. The writing was unnerving.

"What about your co-workers? Do you think they feel the same? That they might not trust you?"

"I don't know."

"So you're not close with any of them?"

"They're practically the only friends I have."

"So?"

"So," Greg picked up "I don't know, I guess not. I've been pretty abrasively lately. Short even. I'm not sure what they think of me."

"What's making you feel this way? What makes you angry?"

"Everything. I can't seem to stop myself. It's like my brain to mouth filter is malfunctioning."

She smiled at the imagery.

"Have you discussed this with Dr. Tracey?"

"No. I really only talk to her about the leukemia."

"It could be related," she continued. "You should mention it at your next appointment."

Greg said he would.

The rest of the hour was spent talking about his job. It had been tense at first, but as the time wore down Greg found himself relaxing. Dr. Sanchez was straight forward, something he was use to, but never judgmental. All in all, it had gone well.

"That's our time," she said as a bell rang. He'd never even seen her set a timer.

"Okay," Greg said standing, not sure what to do next.

"I'd like you to come back next week," she continued as she walked over to her desk and looked over her calendar. "Same time good?"

"Yes," he answered. "That works."

"Good," she said handing him her card. "I want you to call me if you need too, any time. My cell phone is there and I always have it with me."

"Is that it then?" Greg asked uncertain. He'd expected a diagnosis maybe. And he had been serious before, he thought she would try to push some type of medication off on him.

"Yes," she answered. "Where you expecting more?"

"Actually, straight jackets and men with nets comes to mind."

"You're not crazy," she said laughing. It was refreshing to have a patient who could at least keep a sense of humor about the situation. Most people who came in were in deep denial or deep depression. Greg, she thought, might be as well, but at least he was still fighting it. "You have issues, that's all. Everyone does. I'm not putting you on medication because right now I don't think you need it. I can't promise that I'll always have this opinion. The day may come when I do think you'll need some extra help. Today is not that day."

"Okay," Greg said nodding, walking with her to the door.

"I hope this experience wasn't as horrify as you'd thought it would be."

"No, it really wasn't."

"Good. Next week then."

"Next week," he said as he walked out, shaking her hand briefly as the man before him had done. Glad he'd come.


	28. Conversations and Blackmail

**Happy Enough by SLynn**

**Disclaimer:** Any character you recognize, not mine.

**Chapter 28: Conversations and Blackmail **

Three weeks had passed. Everyone noticed the change in Greg's demeanor. He was calmer. Much calmer. For awhile Grissom had been worried he was going to have to counsel him on office etiquette, something everyone would have found amusing had it not been so serious. Grissom didn't know what had brought about the change, but he was relieved. Greg was acting so much like his old self that if he hadn't still been nearly bald it was likely they'd all have forgotten he was even on chemotherapy.

Greg knew he'd changed too. No one was giving him those looks anymore, or if they were he didn't care. Okay, so he didn't care as much. Part of him cared, but he wasn't as consumed by it as he once had been. That he knew was the medication talking. Dr. Sanchez, after two additional sessions had wanted him on a mild anti-depressant. She also wanted to see him twice a week. He had no problems with it; it was easier talking to her then to anyone else.

Chemotherapy was also going well. The drugs still made him sick and sometimes lethargic, but his bone marrow tests kept showing a decrease which was all he cared for.

The only things really going wrong with his life were all personal. Sara and Greg were spending more time together off duty and had built a stronger friendship. Nothing else had happened between them, they were just friends. Sara hadn't pushed again, knew it was dangerous, and Greg was thankful for it. He knew if she had he'd of caved in an instant. Nick and Greg were a different story altogether. They were still not speaking to each other in normal tones. They were polite and professional, but it was all very superficial.

They'd basically worked themselves into an impasse and neither of the two was willing to make the first move. Despite the time that had passed, both of them were still angry. Greg because he'd really had expected better of Nick, all things considering. Nick because he felt Greg had been overreacting and taken out his frustration on the nearest target, him. Amy thought they were both being jackasses, told them so daily and was growing tired of waiting for the whole thing to blow over.

So she decided to take action. Actually, she decided to take inaction.

That night, after shift started Greg stopped by to see her. He usually did, even if it was just a quick hello. Sometimes he stayed longer, caught up if he hadn't seen her in a few days. Maybe it was because of all the rumors that had floated around about the two of them, but Greg and Amy didn't spend nearly as much time together as they had.

"Hey Amy, new glasses?"

"No. I lost my left contact and had to improvise."

"They're cute."

"Greg," she said looking up at him seriously. "Guys don't say 'cute' unless they're talking about girls."

"Okay, you're cute."

She laughed at him.

"You know, I never get tired of hearing that, but you must want something."

"I do," Greg said pulling up a stool "my results please."

"I'd like to help you…"

"What? They have to be done. I dropped them off yesterday Amy."

"I'm swamped."

"With what?" he asked with growing suspicion. They'd been slow lately and there wasn't even anything out on the table.

"Stuff."

He just continued to look at her, knowing she was screwing with him but not sure why.

"Okay, so I might have it done," she relented.

"And it would be where?"

"I can't recall."

"Amy, this isn't funny. Come on, give me the results."

"I will," she assured him. "As soon as you go talk to Nick."

"That's blackmail."

"Yes it is."

"Amy, seriously, it's a criminal case. You're holding up a criminal case."

"Greg, seriously, it was a smash and grab. It can wait the ten minutes it will take you to go find Nick and apologize."

"I'm not apologizing for something that wasn't my fault."

"For the four thousandth time Greg, you were yelling at him for something that wasn't his fault. I'm the one you should be mad at. I should have never told you what happened. Be angry at me, please, but don't lose your best friend for something so stupid."

"If it's so stupid why won't you tell me exactly what Hodges said?"

"Because, I like you Greg and I don't want to see you like that again."

Greg stood quietly for a minute. Amy had been so somber in her last remark it had kind of gotten to him.

"I'll talk to Nick," he said, looking down and running his hand over the back of his neck.

"Thank you."

Greg just briefly met her eye and walked out down the hall.

"You owe me," he yelled back at her before he'd gotten too far.

Greg knew exactly where to find Nick. He was in the trace lab, thankfully alone, comparing fibers. As soon as Nick saw him come in and sit down, he knew where it was headed. Until that moment he'd been determined to not break first, but now he just felt guilty.

"Got a minute," Greg asked as Nick looked up.

"Yeah."

"Okay, admittedly I'm here under duress. Amy's holding my lab results hostage until we talk, but it's a stupid fight and I was sorry for it long before now. Good?"

"You had every right to be mad. It's not my business what's going on outside…"

"Let's just not bring it up," Greg cut him off. "Really, I know I'm not as volatile as I was, but lets not stress test it yet."

"Fair enough," Nick said with some concern. "But I shouldn't have been talking about you like that. It really won't happen again. I promise to not even breathe your name unless you're in the room to hear it."

"Okay, now you're just being a smartass," Greg responded, but with all the regular humor back in his voice.

"Hey," Nick said as he laughed, "I'm just trying to avoid future fights."

"I give you permission to talk about me all you want, just don't put Sara and me in the same sentence."

Nick was a bit taken back by the request, but nodded in agreement.

"Alright," Greg said getting up to go. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go pry my findings out of our lab techs hands."

"Hey wait," Nick called stopping him in the doorway. "You off tomorrow night?"

"I'm pretty much off whenever I want to be."

"Good, come by and watch the game. A few people are coming over, nothing big."

"Sure, I'll be there."

"Do you even know what game I'm talking about?" Nick asked amused.

"No, but I'll still come. I don't get out enough."

"Too true."

Greg waved once and left, feeling relief that he hadn't thought possible. He hated arguing. Hated confrontation. It would probably take another day or two for Nick and him to really feel comfortable again, but at least it was going to happen now.

"Well?" Amy asked almost before he'd gotten through the door.

"I said I was sorry, he said he was sorry. We popped some popcorn, did each others hair and then had a nice cry while watching a Julia Roberts film. Can I have my results now?"

"Here," she said holding out the paper for him.

"Thank you."

"But you did talk, right? Seriously Greg." She asked before he could escape.

"Yes Amy, we did. It's fine."

"Good. That's all I wanted."

"I know," Greg answered. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it, please. I'd probably be fired on the spot."

Greg laughed, but made a point of not disagreeing. She needed to squirm about it for awhile. It would be good for her.

Finally, results in hand, he went to find Warrick who was in the AV room and wasn't very happy.

"Man, I thought you got lost."

"Long story."

"I bet, got anything good?"

"Oh," Greg said looking down at the results for the first time. He'd almost forgotten what he was doing. "Yeah, looks like it's our guy. Lester McCray."

"Alight then. Let's go get him."

Two hours passed and they hadn't returned back to the lab. Grissom hadn't been concerned, just assumed they'd stopped for food after dropping the perp off. They'd gone escorted, as was protocol, so if there was trouble they'd be fine. They hadn't really needed to go, but were hoping to find additional evidence at the suspects house to really nail the case shut.

He really wasn't concerned until Brass called.

"Gil," he said not even waiting for him to say hello. "I just heard on the wire. Two CSI's in transport to UMC. Shots were fired at the scene. Who do you have out now?"

Grissom knew who. Everyone else was here doing paperwork or running evidence.

"Brown and Sanders."

"By now they should be at the hospital. I'll call ahead; try to figure out what happened. You should probably get down there. I'll join you soon."

"Did…" Grissom started and then discovered his voice wasn't working properly.

"They didn't call 'officer down'."

Grissom thanked him and hung up. He was silently debating whether or not he should go now by himself or tell everyone and go as a group. If it was bad, it might be easier if he knew the details first.

"Gil?" Catherine asked from the doorway. "You okay?"

"No," he said having made up his mind. "Get Sara and Nick, we've got to go."

"Brass call with a case?"

"Let's hope not."


	29. Affirmation

**Happy Enough by SLynn**

**Disclaimer:** Any character you recognize, not mine.

**Notes:** Thanks for the fix airen. I so completely couldn't think of that until you'd mentioned it! It's fixed now.

**Chapter 29: Affirmation**

They'd taken two SUVs to the hospital. Nick drove Sara and Grissom drove Catherine. They might as well have gone together; both trucks were completely silent the entire drive. All they could do at the time was imagine the worst and hope for the best.

They all headed straight into the emergency room stopping only at the receptionist desk.

"Gil Grissom, Las Vegas Crime Lab. Two of my men were brought here tonight."

The woman looked up at him with little empathy.

"Down the hall, second room on the left."

Grissom said nothing but felt better. He knew if it was really bad they'd have been told to wait for a doctor. Looking at the others, he sensed they didn't share his optimism. Sara particularly looked shaken, and once more he considered the possibility that Greg meant more to her then she let on.

As they got to the door they'd expected a lot of things. Laughter wasn't one of them.

Greg was lying on the table, propped up to near sitting position holding an ice pack on the back of his neck. He'd looked pretty well beaten up and was laughing almost to point of tears. Warrick, in a wheel chair beside him didn't look nearly as bruised as Greg, but now had a cast on his left foot. He too was laughing hysterically.

"…but the look on your face," Warrick was saying, or trying to say between laughs.

"I thought the whole damn thing was collapsing," Greg tried as a way of defense "and there was no way I was going in after you."

The four stood in the doorway for a half a moment until Grissom finally interrupted.

"Interesting night?"

"Hey, Griss," Warrick said looking over, stifling his laughter as best he could. "What are you doing here?"

"Well usually when I get a call that I have two of my team in the hospital, I come check it out."

"What happened to you two?" Nick asked, laughing as he did it. It was nervous laughter, he really had been scared.

"Didn't Jensen call?" Warrick asked.

"No," Grissom answered. "Brass did. Said you two were here but that was it."

"Sorry. I'd have called but I thought you already knew."

Warrick looked very seriously from Grissom to Catherine. He knew they'd probably been a wreck. He'd actually been pretty worried himself, Greg didn't remember it but he'd lost consciousness for about five or six minutes. Warrick had been released already, despite the cast his ankle was only twisted, but they wanted to run a few more tests on Greg.

"So?" Nick asked again.

"Oh, man." Warrick began, his eyes lighting up once more. "Greg and I met with the new guy, Jensen. Complete rookie. It should have been easy. McCray wasn't suppose to be armed or dangerous or anything like. He's pretty much a petty criminal. But he lives out…"

Warrick started to laugh again and Greg did too.

"Did they give you both pain killers?" Catherine asked, smiling as she did so.

"Sorry, sorry." Warrick said before continuing. "He lives out at the dump. So, first we got lost. Really lost. His house was like clear on the other side of the place. And the smell."

"Is that what that is?" Sara interjected for the first time. She'd come over to where Greg was, standing just behind him. She'd taken the ice pack out of his hands without ceremony and was looking now for herself at the wound. He had a gash, several stitches, but nothing serious. It looked like it stung.

"Eau de garbage," Greg answered looking up at her with a faint smile which she just returned.

"Anyway, we finally get there. Jensen's freaked about the junk dogs that are chained up nearby, but at this point we just want to get the guy and go. And of course, he's not alone. He's got like two or three of his buddies there, drunk. Which was fine, because he wasn't really resisting. And then there's this loud bang."

"Gunshot?" Nick asked, taking a seat on a nearby stool.

"I thought so," Greg added. It had been scary.

"So did Jensen, so he pulled his gun. But it was just a truck out on the interstate backfiring. I hear it all the time near my house so I recognized it. But McCray and his friends must have thought Jensen opened fire or something, because they just scattered. Ran right into us, actually ran mostly into Greg because he's the only one who didn't move."

"Come on now. I was standing behind you two when it happened. It was like they'd planned it, the way you both just stepped right out of the way and left me standing there alone."

"Before we got out of the car I told you to do what I do."

"Well, it's a good thing I didn't because I do not need that right now." Greg had indicated the cast with a laugh as he'd said so.

Warrick just looked a bit sheepish.

"So, I'm guessing that the stampede is how Greg got like that, but how did you hurt your leg?" Grissom asked all seriousness.

"Climbing a mountain of trash," Greg answered.

"No, pursuing a suspect on foot," Warrick corrected. "Up a mountain of trash."

Everyone laughed at his delivery.

"I saw McCray heading off, so I gave chase. I knew he wasn't armed and Jensen was too concerned about the other people on scene. The guy was fast and knew his way around a whole lot better then me. I had to have chased after him for ten minutes or more, till I finally saw him going over one of the larger trash heaps. I followed him up and about half way there they whole thing started moving."

"Man, it looked like a diaper avalanche," Greg added.

"McCray and I both ended up falling down it, Greg and Jensen met us at the bottom. He called for an ambulance because I couldn't get around much and we've been here since."

"So how long are they keeping you for?" Catherine asked.

"I'm free to go," Warrick said, "Just waiting on Greg."

"They wanted another cat scan, it's nothing." Greg replied, brushing it off. "Like I told Warrick, you don't have to stay."

"You should be home," Catherine said to Warrick, meaning business. "We'll take you and drop you off. Nick and Sara can wait with Greg."

"I really can't," Nick interjected. "I mean, you're okay and I have evidence that might not wait that long. Sorry man."

"It's nothing," Greg said meaning it. "Go, really."

"I'll stay," Sara said. "You can squeeze Nick in with you and I'll drive Greg home from here."

"That's a plan," Nick said tossing her the keys to the SUV.

No one had any objections, Warrick just politely asked Sara to walk him out. He really wanted her to hear the whole story.

"He took a bad hit," Warrick said seriously outside the door. "I know a lot of that bruising doesn't mean much because of all the meds he's on, but he was out cold for awhile. He's a little vague on some of the details, but the docs don't think it's anything serious. Keep him awake and keep him talking. They think he has a mild concussion."

Sara nodded, glad she'd heard it now first from him then in there from a doctor in front of Greg. When she rejoined him she could tell he was already starting to nod off.

"Hey," she said brightly. "So do you think you'll have to burn your clothes?"

"At least the shoes. People throw out some weird stuff and I stepped in most of it."

Sara laughed and then quickly had to fight down the urge to cry.

"Sara, I'm fine. It's a scratch on my head. I'm just thankful I didn't have any hair for them to shave in order to stitch it up."

He'd meant to make her laugh, but it had the opposite effect.

"No," Greg said sitting upright and pulling her close. "Don't cry. Don't."

"I thought that after all of this, on the way here, I just kept thinking that after everything…"

"Are you kidding me?" Greg interrupted, still holding on to her. "After all of this I'm going to be harder to kill then Rasputin."

She laughed despite herself. It wasn't something she felt she should be laughing about.

"Although I won't have lived quite that bawdy of a life."

Again she laughed, snorted almost making him laugh too. Finally he released his arms from around her and was surprised when she didn't immediately move away. Instead, she put her hands on his face as he'd once done to her.

"You're really okay."

It hadn't been a question, more of an affirmation.

"I am," he answered anyway. "I really am."


	30. Enough

**Happy Enough by SLynn**

**Disclaimer:** Any character you recognize, not mine.

**Notes:** This is it, the very last chapter. Hope you enjoy it!

**Chapter 30: Enough**

As Sara drove him home from the hospital, tests all ran and back negative, Greg knew he wouldn't be spending the night alone. It wasn't arrogant to think that, he reasoned with himself, it was almost sad. Because he knew that Sara didn't love him. He knew she cared, that she maybe loved him as a friend, and in some horrible twist of fate she was oddly attracted to him; but it wasn't love.

It was powerful and overwhelming, but not love. This was need. She needed to know he really was here and alive and he needed to feel safe again. Laugh or not, he had been scared earlier. Terrified was a better word. And Sara made him feel safe. She made him feel that none of his problems were problems. Alive. With her he was alive.

He didn't even try to stop it.

He hadn't objected to her coming inside although he knew he should have, it was his only hope. Hadn't even attempted to pull away in the slightest as she drew him into her arms just inside the door, his apartment still dark. And she hadn't backed down as he kissed her. Greg kissed her for all the times he'd wanted to but held back. Thousands of instances built into that one moment. Sara returned his kiss with one, if not holding the same fervor, at least matching in intensity. It was everything he'd remembered from the last time only so much realer. The world seemed realer, brighter, but only those moments.

Even as it was happening he knew it wouldn't last. They weren't going to last. Tomorrow they'd go back to indifference or slight friendship, both bad choices. Tomorrow, embarrassed and ashamed, they'd retreat back into themselves and try to forget until the next time. Because there would be a next time, it wasn't just a fluke. They'd keep this up until they'd finally and completely destroyed their friendship and either jealousy or real hatred was all that was left.

And then what?

He didn't know. Right now, it didn't matter. Right now she was here, with him and it was enough. He could hold her, kiss her, and touch her. She was there now and he'd have to make do.

Greg hadn't completely given up. Not yet. He knew how he felt for her, thought he knew how she felt for him and secretly wondered if he could ever change her mind. He didn't think so, but that wasn't an absolute.

Clinging to each other they made their way to his bedroom. It hadn't taken long to get there. Both knew exactly what was going to happen, what they wanted to happen. Still new to each other, there were nerves that even passion couldn't entirely overcome. Everything was done with a patient deliberateness at first, much like the last time they'd been together. But soon they grew comfortable again. The desire to touch, move and taste was too much for either of them to remain disciplined. Before long it all faded into bliss.

The next morning, really only a few hours later, Greg woke and found the bed beside him empty.

"Where are you going?" he asked sitting up, still drowsy as he found Sara at the edge of the bed putting on her shoes.

"I still have to drop off the truck," she whispered for no other reason then it was dark.

"Are you coming back?" he asked, checking the clock. It was just after five.

She didn't answer immediately, standing up instead and he knew why. She wasn't.

"At least talk to me now then," he implored.

"You were right, we can't keep doing this."

"Well," he began "why don't we do something more? It doesn't have to be just this."

"Yes, it does."

"Why?"

"Because," she started and realized she couldn't give him an answer. "It just does. Greg, if we got involved I'd end up hurting you. It wouldn't be on purpose, it would just happen and I don't want to do that."

"You don't know that. Besides, I'm an adult Sara; I'd rather just take my chances. I know that it might not work, but this is definitely going to fail."

"Greg," she said, sitting down in front of him, unconsciously rubbing his forearm, "There are so many things wrong with me that you just don't know about. I've got a lot of baggage."

"But I want to know," he countered, pressing his forehead to hers.

"No you don't."

He leaned in and quickly kissed her before she could object.

"Yes, I do."

"You're not playing fair," she smiled, pulling away from him a bit as she did so.

"It's not a game," he said half seriously.

"I know," she answered, meeting his tone.

"If it was I'd be reduced to stuffing cryptic love notes into your locker and casting meaningful glances your way during staff meetings."

"That's not funny," she said, now completely serious. It was one of her biggest problem with the whole situation.

"Is that what you're worried about? What people at work will say?"

"Yes, it is. Romance and work do not mix."

"Well, I wouldn't want to take you on a date to the lab, if that's what you're thinking. Besides, you've seen it already and I usually hold off doing that for special occasions."

"I'm being serious Greg."

"I am too, sort of."

"No, you're not. I almost lost it today in front of everyone when Griss said you were at the hospital. And then there was that triple homicide, I complete froze up. It's already a distraction now, if we…"

"Are you saying I'm a distraction?" he asked hastily moving to get up. He needed some space between them suddenly.

"Yes. No, not you. Us. We're a distraction."

"I can't decide if that's flattering or offensive," is what he said, but his tone clearly spoke his opinion.

"But you see my point."

"No, I don't. Because we're already involved. You may not agree with me, but what else can you call this."

"A mistake."

Greg had felt this sensation before, once when he'd stopped breathing. All of the air was just gone from him. He knew he'd forced her to say it, forced her to tell him that but it didn't make it one bit easier to hear.

"Okay," he said tersely, "well at least now I know how you feel."

"Greg," Sara tried, her voice sounding thicker then usual "I didn't mean it like that."

"How do I keep doing this to myself?" he asked out loud.

"Please try and understand…"

"No, I need to know. Right now. Can you even imagine it, you and me? Forget about work, forget about what anyone would say, pretend it doesn't matter."

"I don't know that."

"Right now, can you? Can you even try?"

She hesitated. Sara knew what she felt, that it scared her. She also knew what she was going to say. It was a lie and it was going to hurt them both, but it had to be done. They couldn't go on like this.

"No," she answered quietly, "I can't. It wouldn't work."

Greg nodded in silence, barely visible to her from where he now stood across the room. It's what he'd expected to hear. What he'd always told him self she'd felt.

"That's it then," he finally said.

It was her turn to nod silently, tears trickling down her cheeks.

"I should go."

Greg didn't try to stop her, watched her as she walked out of the room, following her into the living room as she made her way to the door.

Sara put on her jacket, picked up her purse and had her hand on the door before she stopped. This was it. There was no changing her mind once she left. She wasn't sure if Greg believed in second chances.

He turned away as she opened the door. Greg thought if he'd watched her leave it might be easier to take, but it turns out he was wrong. He couldn't do it. So when she pulled it open, he retreated back to his room. Frustrated and upset, feeling very much like he'd just let the best thing in his life leave without so much as an attempt to stop her. But what could he do? He couldn't make her stay.

Greg heard the door shut and knew she was gone.

Still standing in his darkened bedroom, he was at a loss. He rubbed a hand across his face, catching a few stray tears he hadn't known about and took a deep breath.

"Can I change my answer?"

He felt delirious, like he might be dreaming. As Greg turned round to just confirm that he indeed wasn't going mad, Sara was there in the doorway. Still in her jacket and clutching her purse nervously before her, but really there.

She couldn't read his face. It was so completely blank she wasn't sure if he was going to tell her everything was fine or just throw her out. She couldn't blame him if he did the latter, but she hoped he wouldn't. She didn't have long to wait. Within seconds of realizing she was there still, really there, he'd crossed the room and wrapped her in his arms. Sara couldn't remember being kissed like that before, with such emotion. She'd never been happier for taking a risk.

"Why'd you stay?" he asked once he'd finally let her loose, a bit breathless and grinning at her like a Cheshire cat.

"You ask too many questions," she avoided more then answered. Sara wasn't sure herself. She'd just felt that maybe it was time to stop running.

"You should try to get use to that."

"I'm not promising this is going to be easy," she said seriously, not wanting to dampen his spirits, but just wanting him to understand the truth of the situation. She wasn't an easy person to deal with and she knew it. Especially for those she loved.

"I know that."

"Do you really?"

Greg nodded. He thought he did. It didn't matter to him, he was willing to try. Willing to do anything to make this work.

"Are you sure I can make you happy?" she asked, this time will so much seriousness that he'd completely stopped smiling despite his mood. Sara still had her doubts, but if he didn't hers would soon be done away.

"Yes, you can." He said assuring her once more of just how he felt. "More then enough."

**The End**

**A/N:** Again – thank you so much for all of the incredible reviews! I love and read them all, even the not so flattering. : ) I hope you enjoyed the story.

Couple of notes, I've said this before I never intended this to be a romance. Chapter 7 changed that for me. I'd originally planned another asthma attack for that scene. That would have been three in a row after close contact with Sara, thus giving me a stronger reason (new perfume) for the attacks because originally I'd never planned the tests to come back positive.

Ah, but by then I couldn't stop myself! I resisted right up to the end because in my head she really was walking out that door, call me a coward, but she came back. I love sappy endings. However, because of this my sequel will have to undergo a minor rewrite. No big thing, I'm hoping to have the first few chapters out soon.

About the sequel – it will take place nearly a year after Greg's first diagnosis. It'll be a more case driven story. And it will be titled: Issues. If that sounds familiar, it should, it's the title of chapter 27 to this story. That's all I'm saying.

Again, a million thanks!

SLynn


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